


もう一度、私の愛

by Galacticoaktree



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America/Japan - Freeform, America/Japan-Centric (Hetalia), Dark Setting, It's gonna be sad, M/M, Major Character Injury, Violent Scenes, Wartime Romance, ameripan - Freeform, sensitive topics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-14 11:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galacticoaktree/pseuds/Galacticoaktree
Summary: 14th September, 1940Mr A. Jones,I would like to begin this letter by apologising for how long it has been since I were last able to contact you. I'm sure you would understand, if I told you that I was worried about raising suspicion. If these letters to each other were to be found by someone other than ourselves, it's truly agreeable that we both may face a sentence of death, or worse. I cannot even write a lot today, you see, as I fear that I'm still being watched over.It's been a year now, has it not? I miss your warmth; maybe even just your presence.The cherry blossoms were beautiful this year.Yours faithfully,K. Honda





	1. Underneath a cherry blossom tree,

**Author's Note:**

> Wartime ameripan in which Alfred and Kiku are separated and communicate via letter.. Not really all that historically accurate guys don't expect a history lesson sksksk  
> Do expect some sad stuff though and do expect to get emotional for these boys.. this one's going to be really different to my last fic.  
> Enjoy!

Alfred held the frail sheet of paper in his two gloved hands. It was a little tatty, presumably from rough transportation, but it was beautiful nonetheless.  
Each stroke of black ink had been carefully placed with detailed precision and strong intent. Each word had been thought about and chosen for a reason, and each sentence was strung together intentionally and, underneath the formal language, lovingly.  
"Jesus, you fuckin' idiot," Alfred muttered at the letter, "an' here I thought you'd been caught or summin'."  
He traced the name at the bottom with a single finger - K. Honda - before folding the paper quickly back up, and tucking it delicately into the inside pocket of his leather bomber jacket.  
That inside pocket was where he kept all of Kiku's letters. Every single one. He barely even used the pocket on the right - for he simply wanted Kiku close to his heart. He kept a photo of his beloved in that same pocket.  
It was a little dangerous, really; if anyone were to dig through his stuff for some reason, he'd be in major trouble, but a long time ago Alfred had decided that he didn't care about trouble anymore. There was only one thing he truly, deeply cared about.  
Alfred moved his hand to press against where the letters sat in his jacket. The cherry blossoms were beautiful this year, the most recent had read.  
Alfred had remembered, years ago, how he stood under a cherry blossom tree, shading from the springtime sun. It had been a particularly hot day. He remembered how he'd been standing next to Kiku Honda - the wily nation of Japan who'd seduced him through sheer kindness and hospitality many many years prior. He remembered how they'd talk about everything. Anything and everything. Their opinions often differed too, but it simply made for more discussion, and that was something they both agreed on.  
Alfred remembered wordlessly interlacing his fingers with Kiku's. He remembered putting his other hand on the man's shoulder to turn him around.  
He remembered facing Kiku in the daylight, in public, where anyone could see, and he remembered whispering 'We shouldn't be doing this', knowing he was going to do what his heart so desperately cried for regardless.  
He'd known, had Alfred, and he still did, how it was shameful to be with another man. He didn't care.  
He remembered leaning down to Kiku, who reached up just as much.  
He remembered as their lips met under that tree that day and how he wished he'd never let that moment pass.

Alfred remembered loving Kiku. He wished he still could.  
This God-forsaken war had torn them apart ruthlessly and he hadn't seen Kiku in over a year.  
He didn't know when, or if, it would end.

"Hey! Mr Jones-"  
Alfred spun around, his train of thought interrupted. He straightened his jacket and adjusted his glasses in an attempt to look focused. One of the other soldiers - a friend of his, stood in the doorway.  
"Yeah? I'm busy in here."  
"There's a uh, telephone call for you."  
Alfred perked up.  
"From who?"  
"Mr Kirkland."  
Alfred sighed. Not what he'd hoped for. It wasn't like his dearest could get a telephone call to him anyway, but his heart just wanted to hear a certain someone's soft, deep voice.  
"It's always Arthur. Wha'does he want this time?"  
His friend shrugged.  
"Dunno. Said it's for you, Al."  
Alfred mulled it over for a second.  
"Tell 'im I'm busy." He said after a short while.  
"He'll go damn mad, Alfred! He'll kill ya before the fuckin enemies do!"  
"Yer right." Alfred replied, nodding. "But tell 'im I'm busy anyway."  
The other soldier chuckled.  
"Got it. Won't disturb ya again, Al."  
"Thanks."  
The door shut with a slight bang. His friend was right, Arthur probably would kill him for this, but at the same time, Alfred was busy.

He took a sheet of paper from the drawer, and a pen from his desk, and adjusted his lamp so that he could see. Before laying down a single droplet of ink, he first gently pressed his lips to the paper. A good luck kiss for the journey, he decided.

_3rd December1940_

_My dearest Kiku,_

_I was very worried about you. I think of you every second, and you know, each night I pray you are safe and well. I was looking at your photograph today.. You're so very beautiful - how I wish I could see you in person._  
_An ally wanted to speak to me today, over the telephone. I didn't talk to him, since I wanted to write this letter, but every time I receive a telephone call, my heart stops. Every time, I wish it was you. I wish I could hear your voice right now. You have a very beautiful voice. It's better than music._  
_When you said how the cherry blossoms were beautiful, I was reminded of the day we kissed underneath one. I wish to hold you like that again, once this fighting is done with. I promise that one day, I will kiss you again underneath a cherry blossom tree. No matter what happens, I won't forsake that promise to you._  
_I have your letter close to my heart, and I hope you'll do the same for me with this one. Once again, I pray that you are healthy and happy, my love._  
_Lastly, I just wish for you to know that I love you ever so dearly, my sweetheart._  
_\- Alfred Jones_

Alfred reread the letter to check it, before folding it in half, and then in half again, as neatly as he could (though Alfred's folds were never neat). He tucked it carefully into a spare envelope, writing on it a name and a location.

Now was the hardest part. Technically, he was sending a letter of endearment to his enemy, of all people, and so for that reason, it should've been impossible to so much as send such a letter. However, Alfred and Kiku had, let's say, a sort of neutral, mutual ally that they could use to send such letters. The only downside was the large sum of money required to send it through said ally in secrecy and confidentiality, but it was worth it, and Alfred regularly set aside a portion of his pay to make sure that he could afford to send his thoughts and feelings to the one who was most important to him.

He combed a hand through his dirty-blond hair, it bouncing back forward straight after. He stood in the bright office with the letter in his pocket, a small table in front of him, the man he'd come to know somewhat sat on the other side.  
"That's right, ain't it?" He asked, keeping his voice low as he slid a band of money across the table.  
"It is. Thank you for your.. donation." Antonio replied, taking the money and quickly stuffing it into his pocket.

Alfred proceeded to hand over the letter, the other taking it and giving the envelope a glance before putting it with some others.  
"Who do you send all these to, anyway?" He asked the American, giving the single envelope another glance. "A maiden?"  
"Yeah, something like that." Alfred said, moving his gaze away from the Spanish man and towards the envelope that sit atop the pile. "A sweetheart, I suppose."  
"You were sweethearts before the war?"  
"Yeah, we were."  
"Well, I wish you and her all the best." Antonio told him, a smile on his face. "I'm sure that she is a very lucky woman!"  
"Oh boy, thanks." Alfred replied, turning to leave. "See you around."

The walk from this place back to Alfred's base was a long-ish one. It was worth it, though. It was certainly worth it.  
So long as that letter made its way to Mr Kiku Honda, anything and everything was worth it. That at least, was what Alfred had decided.


	2. And at night, I would pretend

Kiku Honda curled up on the uncomfortable hard floor. His head rest on a single pillow, and rather than having his covers over the top of him, he'd rolled them up and put them next to him. He held the covers tightly, his arms firmly around them, holding them close to his chest.   
He buried his face in them at the top, his fringe pushed up, individual strands of hair shaping around the corner of the roll. Inky black contrasted with the sheets' snow white.   
It was uncomfortable. The floor was cold. It was hard and steel and cold. Kiku hadn't had a chance to get changed, either. He was stuck trying to sleep in his uniform. Lastly of course, he just felt cold and awful without the sheets. That much was his own fault, and it was something that he could fix.. but he needed this right now. He needed to hold these rolled up sheets and bury his face in them and close his eyes and pretend. He needed it.

Kiku rather took a fancy to pretending. Sometimes it was nice, to ignore the fact that, these sheets were nothing more and nothing less than.. sheets. Sometimes, he simply wanted to pretend that he wasn't alone on the floor here. That he wasn't in this bunker. That this entire thing hadn't happened. It was wonderful to pretend that he was holding, burying his face, breathing deeply into Alfred.

He buried his head further into the white sheets, curling up smaller around them. He felt small right now. He felt useless, and helpless, and terrible. He felt sick with regret. He felt sick and tired. He hated it. Kiku hated fighting - hated doing horrible things. He did not have a choice. He'd been threatened and, just like all the other nations, was fighting in a war that he just wanted to be over.

It shook him to the core when people who were just about to die declared honour in the name of their land - their country. Kiku - Japan - did not want any people to die and yet he was stuck blending in with ordinary people.

If he and Alfred had been ordinary people, then the second they'd declared the war, the two of them would've.. That was better than being separated.

Kiku made himself even smaller, clawing into the soft roll.   
"I miss you." He whispered softly.  
Kiku was simply talking to someone who couldn't hear him. He may as well have been talking into the void.  
"I love you."

Kiku was afraid. What if this changed everything? Perhaps when all this would be over, Alfred would no longer feel anything for him. Alfred would've moved on, and found a better person. Anyone was better than himself, Kiku thought.  
Maybe Alfred wouldn't look him in the eye anymore. Maybe even at world meetings he'd do nothing but shove past and tell him to get out of the way. Kiku wanted to believe that Alfred would never do that, but Kiku had already done so many bad things that anyone with a brain would do that.  
Kiku felt ill. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to get up right now and go to the bathrooms and throw up everything that was in his system. He knew though, that doing that wouldn't get rid of his bad thoughts.  
Instead, he made himself smaller again, and held the sheets tighter.  
At some point, he fell asleep.

A harsh knock startled him awake, followed by a yell of his surname.   
He groaned a little, and shoved his face into the sheets that he'd held all night. His eyes remain closed - they did not want to open.  
"Honda!" the man yelled outside, kicking the door this time with a loud bang. "If I have to call a third time-!"  
Kiku slowly sat himself up, rubbing his eyes.   
"On my way, Captain." He wearily called back.   
He stood up and patted down his crumpled uniform, before smoothing down his hair best he could manage without a mirror.   
He wandered to his rucksack, just to check he hadn't left anything behind. Didn't look like it.   
Kiku gazed over the little bunch of envelopes tied together near the bottom. He wanted to smile, but they made him sad. He didn't deserve such endearing letters.

Finally swinging the bag over his shoulder, he opened the door to an unamused looking captain.   
"Come on." He spoke, giving Kiku a push behind the shoulder. "You're late for breakfast."  
"I'm sorry, captain." Replied Kiku. He looked a little sheepish.  
The captain sighed, his hand coming down heavily on Kiku's shoulder.   
"So long as it doesn't happen again, boy."  
Kiku nodded silently as he watched the floor in front of him. He didn't really want to go and have breakfast. These days, he didn't want to eat anything. He was just never hungry.

At the table he sat amongst his crewmates. He talked to them often, but they weren't really his friends. He knew plenty about them, but they didn't really know anything about him. His entire life was, to them, a big secret that they wouldn't understand even if they did uncover.   
Kiku stared down at the rice in front of him. He knew he had to eat it - he needed to eat something, since he couldn't be sure when he'd be able to again.   
He picked up a ball of rice with his chopsticks, and reluctantly shoved it into his mouth. He swallowed hard, his stomach making some sort of awful noise. He felt unwell again already, and he'd only been awake for around fifteen minutes.   
"You seem miserable again, Honda-san." A man's voice said, coming to sit down next to him. It was one of his teammates.  
Kiku was thankful for this man's support. He had trouble showing it at times like this, but he was very grateful for the fact that this particular teammate always came over to talk when he noticed that Kiku wasn't doing so well. Right now, however, Kiku could barely think.  
"...Am I?" He muttered, absentmindedly playing with a grain of rice between his chopsticks.  
"Wow, you're really down in the dumps this time. What's up with you? Missing someone?"  
Kiku stopped twiddling the sticks.  
"I knew it. Well, head up, Honda-san. Once this war is over, we'll be the greatest nation the world has ever known."  
Kiku almost visibly gagged. He didn't want that.  
With a pat on the shoulder and a "I'll leave you be, though", his teammate left. He'd only meant well, but he'd just gone and made Kiku's situation feel so much more crushing.  
He couldn't eat the rest of the rice now.   
There was suddenly a lot more noise around him. A lot of cheering, people being happy. Kiku didn't have the willpower to tune in to what it was. Not until, he was smacked on the shoulder - the movement accompanied by a 'Honda-san! This one's for you!'.   
Something was passed to him. A letter.  
Kiku stared at it with wide eyes, holding the envelope with two hands. His expression of shock turned to one of glee as he got up from the bench, forgetting his feelings, and ran. He pushed past people, he slipped quietly through the doors, and back down the corridor where nobody would see him.

He stood in front of a window, leaning back on the wall a little. His hands trembled with excitement opening the letter, and the paper inside was pristine and barely touched.   
He pulled out the letter and read it - and then he read it again, and again.    
"I love you too." He whispered into the letter, his voice shaky. "I love you too, I do.. I love you.. too.."   
Kiku stared longingly at the name signed at the bottom.   
"...And I miss you.."

"There you are!"   
The shout interrupted Kiku's train of thought. He quickly folded up the letter, slipping it back into the envelope. It was his colleague from earlier.  
"I wondered where you'd suddenly ran off to. That was a real change of spirit just then!" He called, marching up to Kiku with a letter in his own hands. "Is it from your lover? What's she like?"  
Kiku paused to think for a minute. How would he describe Alfred in a way that would do him justice? In a way that would convey his perfectness without letting his colleague know that not only was this letter from a man, but from an enemy.  
"Beautiful.." was the first word that Kiku could think of. "Beautiful, but also.. kind, and enthusiastic, and joyful.. reliable and strong, and loyal.."  
The other man smiled at Kiku, his expression soft.  
"You really really love this woman, don't you? I bet you're a different person when you're by her side."   
Kiku nodded.  
"Be strong for her. I bet she needs you, you know?" He told him sincerely. "I got a letter from my love today too. If there's one thing that's worth keeping your head above the water for, it's those we care about."  
Kiku looked up at him, smiling a little.   
"You're right.. Thank you." He said, outstretching a hand to shake. "I'm sorry for ignoring you earlier. It takes a toll on us all, doesn't it?"  
His colleague took his hand and shook it well.  
"It does, Honda-san. It does."   
"You can just call me Kiku if you'd like.. I'm going off to write back.. I'll see you."  
The other beamed at him.  
"Have fun writing!" He called, as he turned to go back to the breakfast hall. Kiku watched him go, and then unfolded the letter again. He just wanted to read it one more time before he wrote back.

Part of him was sad. He didn't want to disappoint Alfred - for he wasn't happy nor healthy as Alfred had hoped, and he wasn't about to lie. He thought, whilst getting the ink ready, that maybe he'd just leave his happiness and health out of the equation. Kiku took a deep breath.

_16th February,1941_

_Mr A. Jones,_

_Your letter made me so happy. Upon recieving it, I was so happy that I burst out the breakfast hall and went running down the corridor just to read it straight away. I miss you very much, Alfred. The paper that you wrote on even smells a little like you. When I got that scent, I was reminded of all the time we spent together and it made my heart race like nothing else does._

_I thought of you a lot the last few days. It really hurts to be away from you for so long, but we will see each other again someday, I'm confident in that._

_A colleague asked what my love was like today.. I told him of how kind and beautiful you are. Sometimes, I even wonder that I am undeserving of you - you are an ethereal God cast from the heavens, I am sure of that._

_Your promise made me really happy. I would really, really like it if you'd hold me again underneath the cherry blossom tree. I look forward to that day._   
_I love you, and I'm lonely without you._   
_Yours,_   
_K. Honda_

With that, he folded up the paper - and then grabbed another sheet. He took some ink, and a brush from the side, and with long, graceful strokes, created a drawing. Each stroke was precise, the curvature calculated and perfected.   
Kiku set the brush down once he'd finished and put the paper into an envelope with the letter. A painting of a cherry blossom tree.

Hopefully, Antonio would not yet have left. If Kiku hurried, he'd be able to catch him and pass on the letter. He grabbed the envelope, and enough money, and did just that.


	3. Keep your chin up, lad

Alfred couldn't help but be a little gloomy. Of course, it wasn't like him to be so - he knew these men well. They were his allies right now. The were, actually, THE allied forces - so of course, Alfred wasn't worried or anything.. just.. gloomy. He'd been down in the dumps quite a bit, recently, and it was all just because he missed Kiku. Alfred missed him more and more every day. It felt empty.

He was almost there now. Just a little more down this corridor, and then a left turn, and then a right, and then another left. He didn't walk particularly fast, he was a little late, sure, but they'd wait. Each time he passed a window, a little light of the sun caught on his face. Even the sunrise made him feel melancholy.

Today, he just wore a plain brown suit. It was rather boring, no accents, or anything special. He'd rather wear his jacket and his uniform, or better yet, his own damn clothes. The tie was neatly folded under the blazer and his shirt was formally tucked into his pants. He'd even gone so far as to actually brush his hair properly - most of the time, Alfred just left it to do whatever it wanted, resulting in an unruly mess that suited him quite well.

There - this was the right door. He pushed it open with a click and a creak and smirked deviously when he noticed how everyone in the room looked somewhat unamused.  
"Five minutes! Five minutes late!" Arthur began, his tone exasperated already. "Come and sit your arse down! Keeping people waiting like this. In the name of all that's good, why can't you just-"  
"Now now, Arthur." Francis piped up. "Give the boy a break, he's still a teenager, and it's only five minutes, no?"  
"And he brushed his hair!" Ivan joined in, his smile sincere.  
Yao just shook his head, watching Arthur as if he knew what was coming. Alfred sat down next to him.  
"Well, Francis, maybe we don't HAVE five minutes!" Arthur continued, crossing his arms and tapping the floor with his foot at such a pace that Alfred wondered if it'd fall off if he kept it up. "Maybe in those five minutes, Francis, something could've happened! Our enemies could've made a move or-"  
"Hey buddy if the enemies made a move in the past five minutes n' we were all sat here anyway, then we wouldn't be able to help regardless." Alfred but in. "So it don't really matter now do it?"   
"Actually," Arthur snapped back, "it DOES matter and if you or any of you want to argue with me th-"  
"You just wasted another five minutes." Yao interrupted sharply.  
The room fell silent as Arthur suddenly looked sheepish.   
"Well! In that case we should make a start right away-" He rambled, quickly trying to veer the blame back off of himself. "I know we're all a bit disjointed today, but does anyone have anything to report?"  
The room fell silent again.  
"No? Quiet week?" He asked quietly.  
"I made some advances myself.." Ivan began. He turned and smiled widely at the table. "It went really well!"  
Arthur nodded. "Always nice to hear some good news.. anyone else?"  
"I can't really say the same, unfortunately." Sighed Yao, who, now that Alfred really thought about it, did look a little worse for wear. "My enemies are advancing, and fast. They're very perseverant."  
Arthur nodded again, more slowly this time, like there were calculations going on behind such movement.   
"We can certainly try to help.. Russia.. that could be a job for you. If you'd like to provide support for China here then, I'll leave that up to you. Yao- do contact me if you need any further support, won't you?"  
Yao leaned back in his seat, still frowning slightly.   
"I will." He said.   
"Francis. Alfred. Anything.. to report? At all..?" Arthur asked, beginning to get fed up with the both of them again.  
"Not really, darling." Said Francis, resting his head in his hand dramatically.  
Arthur made a disgruntled noise.   
"If anything, their armies are advancing on me too, but I'm holding up for now. Besides, I have you, don't I, Artie?"   
Arthur rolled his eyes.   
"Now's no time to be playing around. Alfred?"  
Alfred shrugged. Arthur raised an eyebrow.  
"What? I don't got nothin'."   
Silence. Again.  
"Alfred!" Arthur exclaimed. "You are the United States of America!!! You are one of the most powerful nations out of us all these days and you don't have anything to say?"   
"Hey, I jus' wannit to be over so I can go back to livin' my damn life."  
"Alfred, as much as you'd like to live your life like any other blessed mortal bastard on this Earth, you can't. Grow up. This is a war."  
Alfred didn't reply, and instead, Arthur went on rambling about his own past few months. Alfred only half listened to him - it was similar as ever - he'd made some advances, protected a few other nations, the usual. England was a very strong man.

Alfred drifted off a little. He was pretty sure it was only Arthur going on and on about serving his precious King. Alfred stared at the wall behind where Ivan was sitting across from him. He let his mind wander. He thought of his friends here, and he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He wondered if he should try harder. Alfred wondered what'd happen if the men here found out about his letters to Kiku. He wondered if they'd shun him, or even abandon him, or would they be understanding, and try to help him? Either way it didn't really matter, Alfred wasn't about to let any of them find out anyway. After this was all over, when he and his beloved were reunited, maybe then he'd let them know about his relationship with Kiku. Even after the war, he wasn't sure how that'd go down, but it was better them knowing after than during. Alfred wondered what Kiku was up to right now. He'd probably be in bed, Alfred decided, with the time difference and all. Alfred hoped that was the case. He hoped that Kiku was sleeping well. He hoped that Kiku was feeling well too, for he knew that the man had a tendency to make himself ill, whether that was from worrying too much or working too hard. Most of the time, both.

Before the American even had a chance to tune in properly, the meeting was over.   
Arthur tapped his back.   
"Come on, lad. You're a bit out of it, aren't you?"   
Alfred snapped out of it instantly and looked up.   
"Yeah, a lil."   
He got up from his seat, and followed Arthur out of the room and towards the hall.  
After these meetings, they'd have half an hour in the hall or so, with some snacks and beverages, and just catch up a little. Some days, Alfred looked forward to it, but right now, he just wanted to get back and write yet another letter to Kiku, despite not having had one back yet.   
The hall was mostly empty, with a small table of food and a few cooking ladies seeing to the drinks. Alfred skipped over and politely asked for a coffee. He smiled and watched as the lady made it and gave it to him, and with a 'Thank you very much, miss', he was on his way back into the crowd.   
"Oi! Alfred!" Called Arthur. The formal atmosphere had died quickly. "Come here, lad! I want to talk to you."   
Alfred took a sip of his coffee and swallowed hard, strolling over at his own pace.  
"Now then," Arthur began once he got over. He took a swill of what Alfred presumed was alcohol. "are you alright, son? Yer getting quieter and quieter with every monthly meeting, aren't ya?"   
"Yeah, I'm okay I guess." Alfred took another drink of his coffee. "I'm jus' missin' someone. Y'know like, cause of the war n' stuff."   
Arthur pat his back with some force. Maybe he was already starting to get drunk, even though it'd only been about ten minutes.  
"Aye, thought it might be sumthin like that mate. Whoever she.. or he.. is, you're a lucky one to 'ave em. You were a bonny baby, lad, but you've only gotten uglier with the years!"  
Arthur cackled, and Alfred gave him a shove.  
"At least I pluck my fuckin' eyebrows you dumb bitch!" He playfully retorted.   
Arthur laughed, and ended up wandering off to pick on Francis for a while.   
In fact, Alfred almost drifted off into his mind for the second time that day, but he was snapped right out of it when he got a hand waved in his face.  
He almost startled, stepping back a little.  
"You were on your own.. But we're here to talk to you now!" Ivan exclaimed, smiling sweetly, getting just a little too close to Alfred's face.   
Alfred blinked, pushing him away.  
"Uh, gee, thanks Ivan, and.. Yao?"   
"Arthur's the worst, right? Just leaving you on your own like that?" Asked Yao, absentmindedly trying to pull Ivan away from poor Alfred whilst he spoke.   
"I wouldn't worry 'bout it, Yao. Lookit 'im, ain't he havin' the time of his life with that been n' all."   
"It does look fun.." Ivan said quietly. Yao tugged at his sleeve.  
"Don't you go getting topheavy, too!"  
Alfred chuckled at the interaction and drank his coffee.   
"You're not yourself Alfred, are you?" Yao half asked. Only half, mostly because he already knew. "Or did Arthur already ask you that?"  
"He did," Alfred laughed. "How'd you know, anyway?"  
Yao shrugged.  
"The same way Arthur knew, I suppose. I used to be a big brother too, didn't I?"   
Alfred went quiet again.  
"...Used to..?"   
"Used to, yeah. He's all grown up now, isn't he? He wants to fight me and hurt me now, doesn't he? So I suppose you could say I used to be a big brother."   
"Do you miss him?"  
Yao shot Alfred a sharp look, before his face softened into a sad smile.  
"I do miss him, but if he wants to be my enemy, then I will gladly fight him, and win."  
Alfred drank some more of his coffee, taking in Yao's words.  
"Say, Alfred. Whatever's getting to you, keep your chin up, won't you? You're a very powerful Nation, I hope you know."   
With that, Yao stuck his hands in his pockets and walked away to where Arthur was dancing around Francis like some sort of drunkard ritual.

Alfred nodded to himself. Keep your chin up. He'd been told that a lot.

When he finally got back, an envelope was shoved in his face.   
"This came for ya this mornin' Jones. You'd left before the mail came round." Said Pete, his co-worker. Alfred took the envelope from his hands, turning it around so that he could actually see the handwriting on the front. Neat and tidy, not a single mistake, just like always.  
"Thanks pal, see ya round-" Alfred called, taking his letter and darting towards his office immediately.

When he got there, he leaned back on the door and pressed the envelope against his chest like it was a precious, sacred artifact. Alfred bit his lip a little opening it, being careful not to rip the piece of paper.. or.. pieces?   
There were two papers in this envelope. One was the letter, and one was.. a drawing. It was a drawing of a cherry blossom tree.   
Alfred put his hand to his face, silent.   
Black ink, hand drawn, it had been drawn for him. Kiku had taken the time out of his day to not only write this letter, but to do this as well. It was wonderful.   
Then, he turned his attention to the letter.  
He smiled, and then he laughed a little, and then he stopped.  
"Hey.." Said Alfred out loud. Softly, but out loud. "You're not undeserving of me sweetie.. don't be silly.."   
He whispered that last part.   
Alfred just stared at the letter. It was a wonderful, beautiful letter, but.. in it, Kiku just seemed.. out of sorts.   
Alfred thought back to how he'd been asked plenty of times today if he was alright or not. Maybe he wasn't exactly in a place to judge that someone was hurting when he was hurting, himself.   
Alfred bit his lip yet another time, before he rushed to the other side of the room and sat at his desk, grabbing some paper and his pen.

_24th of May,1941_

_My beautiful Kiku Honda,_

_Don't be silly, my dearest. If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve someone as wonderful as you, Kiku. If I could see your beautiful chocolate colored eyes, and your perfectly black hair, your petite face and elegant stature, right now I'd be speechless I'm sure. Don't doubt how much you mean to me, Kiku. You are my everything._

_The drawing is beautiful, by the way. I'm afraid if I tried to return the favor it probably wouldn't look anywhere near as good, but I teared up a little seeing that. Take care of yourself too. You seem down. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the same way, but a few people I know told me to always keep my chin up, so that's what I'm going to do, if it means seeing you again._

_Today I met with my friends. We had a good time, as always. I wasn't in the best spirits though, I was really missing you. It's been nearly two years now, hasn't it? Can't wait to see you again._

_I love you, my darling. Don't forget that, ever, okay?_

_\- Alfred Jones_

Done.


	4. Your letters, My sunshine

BANG BANG BANG

"Honda!!!"

Kiku was sitting on his sheets, his knees tucked up to his chest and his head buried between them. He was silent, even when his name was screamed a second time. He was so, so tired.  
He'd not slept that night, the night before or the night before that, and now it was morning again. His undereyes were dark and he felt ill, but he'd only done it to himself.

"Don't make me open the door! I have something for you!" The voice, presumably his boss, yelled through the door.

Kiku lifted his head at the last part, and slowly but surely, forced himself onto his feet, trudging to the door.  
Surprisingly, it wasn't his boss, but rather just his colleague. The same guy who'd been nice to him the last time he received something.. almost six months ago now. That same man had been rather nice to him since, even though Kiku often went up and downhill rapidly in terms of his mood. One minute he'd be talkative, but the next he'd seemingly shut himself in and not want to talk with anyone. His colleague Takami had gotten used to that, and now, Kiku considered him a good friend.  
"Ha! You thought I was captain, right?" Takami laughed, getting an envelope out of his pocket.   
Kiku rubbed his eye. "I did.. Is that.. for me?"  
"Sure is!" He proceeded to hand Kiku the envelope. "All yours!"  
Kiku checked the front. The handwriting, the messy kanji of someone who didn't really know what they were doing, was unmistakably Alfred's. Kiku smiled without even realising it. Everything was awful these days, everything except these letters. These letters kept him going - they were the only thing that had him occasionally sleep or eat or just take care of himself because he knew that Alfred would want him to.   
These letters were everything to him.

"I-I'll go read it!" Kiku exclaimed, his face suddenly a different picture. "I'll see you later-"  
"Wait, I kind of want to read it with you!" Said his colleague.  
Kiku's face dropped a little. He would love to. He really would, love to show this kind friend of his Alfred's letters to him... Kiku knew that if anyone so much as saw that the writing on the letter was in English, he'd be done for. He didn't really want to think about what would be done to him if people found out what was going on.  
"It's.. It's a little bit.. personal. Actually it's.. very personal, so.."   
"What could be so personal? We all get the same sort of letters don't we?"  
"I-" Kiku had to think of something, and fast. "I just don't like to share my personal life, s-so.."  
There was a short silence.  
"What're you hiding, Kiku?"  
Kiku panicked.  
"Nothing! Nothing at all let me assure you that I-"  
Takami just laughed at him.  
"I was kidding, you're okay."   
Silence again.  
"I.. I'll leave you to it then..? See you at lunch, Honda."   
He walked away, and Kiku let go of a breath he'd been holding.

He rushed back into his room, and slammed the door behind him, before dropping his bag in front as a sort of weight to stop the door even just a little, if someone were to come in.   
They never had before, but right now, Kiku was... Anxious.  
He knelt down on his sheets, and held the letter between both his hands.  
His hands were shaking.  
Breathe, he thought to himself. Just breathe.  
He carefully unsealed the envelope and pulled out the paper, and held it lovingly for a second before he read it.   
Kiku had only just read the first paragraph when he had to stop and read that again. He rubbed his eyes and read it a third time.   
Alfred had picked up on it - through his writing alone, Alfred had picked up on the fact that Kiku hadn't been doing so well and addressed it directly. Kiku swallowed hard, trying hard not to well up over it. It was idiotic, feeling so much over a simple sentence or two but right now, it was just what he needed.

_'You are my everything.'_

Kiku half whispered it out loud, a few times, before he finally went on to read the rest of the letter. He read it all just as carefully as he had the first paragraph, taking in each word and jamming it into his mind. These were the words that made him happy. These letters on this small, folded piece of paper were what made him feel safe, no matter how bad the situation was - and the situation had been bad.   
Awful things had happened as of late, and were still happening more and more as time went on. Kiku had seen some horrifying things as of late. Kiku had been kept awake at night by the crimes he'd witnessed.  
When the men he worked with and knew charged onto the battlefield, screaming and shouting things such as 'for the glory of my country!' and 'in the name of Japan', his stomach lurched and he felt ill all over again. He didn't want that.  
Kiku did not want people to kill other people, people to go into battle knowing that they would meet their death, in his name.   
It wasn't like he could stop it, either. He was powerless. He had to blend in with everyone else, with the human beings that he envied so greatly. The lucky ones, the ones who could freely live, love, and most importantly, die. If Kiku was a mortal that he so desperately longed to have been born as, he'd have been dead a long time ago.

He shook his head - what was he thinking about? After folding up the letter again, Kiku brought the paper to his face and gently, just lightly, kissed the tip of the white paper, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He held that pose for a second, before he opened his eyes and moved for his bag. He'd certainly put this letter with the others in there. He needed them.

When things were so bad as this, Kiku would, in the middle of the night when nobody was awake, get the letters from his rucksack and read them all. One by one. They never got old - he could read them forever, each one was special. Reading Alfred's letters, lit by moonlight, blanket around his shoulder, had become Kiku's regular pastime on nights when horrid thoughts kept him awake. It was-

His door opened and Kiku quickly shoved the letter into his bag, pretending he was just sorting supplies.   
"Honda, you're not seriously going to miss lunchtime, are you?" Said a crew member, who just flung the door open without even knocking or asking. It wasn't Takami. Someone else. Kiku didn't even have a chance to speak before the rather noisy man carried on. "You missed breakfast this morning, and I'm pretty sure you weren't at dinner last night either. You'll starve if you just stay in here all the time."  
Kiku fiddled with some stuff in his bag, burying the letters as well as he could.   
"I'm not really hungry." He lied. He instantly regretted saying it, remembering how Alfred had told him to look after himself. Luckily, or rather embarrassingly as Kiku saw it, his stomach growled rather violently right at that moment. The other man just laughed.  
"Hah! You're really funny, Honda!"   
"..Am I?"  
"That was a joke, right?"   
Kiku frowned and his teammate just laughed again. Kiku felt incredibly awkward but the man seemed sincere in his laugh. Poor Kiku couldn't figure out what about whatever he'd said or done was particularly funny.  
"You know, Honda, you'd make a good character in a comedy performance, or something." He said, leaning on the door and watching Kiku, who just looked utterly lost now.  
"M-me..? I-I just.. don't see how I'm that.. funny..."   
His colleague laughed again and Kiku didn't know what to do at all. This was.. a weird situation to say the least.  
"You're comedy gold, Honda, I love it." The guy grinned, and then actually came into the room, much to Kiku's dismay. "Need help with sorting out that bag?"  
"Oh! No, I.. I'm almost finished-"  
"Looks messy in there though."  
"I know where everything is, it's alright."  
"You.. definitely sure?"   
Kiku didn't know what to do. He couldn't let this guy go through his stuff. He knew what'd happen if he found-  
"I'll take it, look." Said the crew member, picking up the bag from where Kiku was sat. Kiku panicked, but he didn't - couldn't do anything about it. After rummaging for a while, and unknowingly making the atmosphere very tense, the man went to walk out of the room. Kiku almost freaked out, stuttering beginnings of words he never finished as he watched him leave.  
He came back a second later with an ammunition pouch in his hand.  
"See? You were missing these, look. How are you supposed to protect yourself without spare ammunition, Honda?"  
Kiku let out a pained breath. For a second, he thought-   
His co-worker passed the rucksack back to him, and Kiku peered in quickly to check. Everything was there. He hadn't noticed.. thank god.  
"There you go. Come on, Honda, it's about lunchtime."

He waited at the door, and watched as Kiku got up, following with hesitation. Kiku didn't say anything. He just walked. His chest ached with anxiousness and though he was sure this guy who was.. very.. politely.. trying to help, hadn't seen anything, Kiku couldn't help but fret over it.

Lunch was.. bad.   
Not the food, but the atmosphere. The food was good, actually. Just ordinary, plain rice as per usual, but ordinary and plain weren't an issue for Kiku. Kiku rather liked ordinary and plain. He resonated with that. Once he'd started eating the rice, he began to realise just how much he'd neglected his body. He ended up eating like a wolf and was finished in mere minutes.

The bad part was that, seeing as he was done, he could stick around until the end of lunch. Their next expedition wasn't scheduled until later, so as long as there was no emergency, he could just sit here with his teammates. Except, Kiku had rather sharp ears, and he picked up on his name being mentioned to someone else. Soon enough, he kept hearing that. Little whispers of his name, even though he couldn't make out the rest of any conversation, nor who it was. Kiku didn't know if he was being talked about or if he was finally going crazy.   
"You know you can just come and talk to people, right Kiku?"  
Kiku startled a little. It was just Takami, but he'd been off in a world of his own the past five minutes.  
"What..?"  
"You're always alone, I mean."

He was right. Kiku was always alone. He always sat alone, ran off alone whenever he could. The others didn't understand why.

Kiku wanted to write back. He wanted to write back to Alfred and be honest and be sad and be hurt and broken and tell Alfred how horrible everything was. He wanted to tell Alfred how he was going downhill so fast and how his mind and body were hurting and how he couldn't sleep at nights and barely eat at mealtimes and how Alfred's letters to him were the only thing that cast a small ray of sunshine upon him anymore.  
He couldn't.  
He couldn't write that letter - people knew. People were suspicious. He'd almost been caught now far too many times and he didn't know if he could take it. He was frightened of what they'd do to him if he was caught and he knew, that if he wrote back today, then everyone would know.   
Kiku was desperate to write to Alfred, and yet..   
No. He couldn't. It wasn't safe enough.   
Especially not with the rumours around the dinner table. Not with people going through his stuff. Not with people who he even knew were his friends, simply wanting to do something as innocent as reading a letter together.   
Kiku couldn't.


	5. All grown up..

Alfred was worried to say the least.  
It had been roughly a year since he last received a letter from Kiku. It was May again already, and whilst the springtime, early summer flowers bloomed outside and the young fauna danced around their mothers, Alfred couldn't settle. He'd wondered if he should send another letter to Kiku, but he knew better. If, for some reason, Kiku was being watched, then Alfred didn't want to make the situation worse for him.  
This past year, Alfred had grown more and more anxious for Kiku's sake. The longer this went on, the less sure Alfred was that he was okay. Something was definitely off. 

Still, Alfred did hold a little pride as, the last year, he'd also grown braver on the outside. He'd been promoted once or twice, and now, he had a lot of people looking up to him. A lot of people to impress - but impressing was something that Alfred had always, and planned on always being, good at.  
Not to mention, his skills had improved too. These days, his flying, his aim, it was all top notch, and though he was great as it was, Alfred still insisted on improving. After all, it gave him something to do. 

Today however, Alfred had another meeting with his allies.. or friends.. or family. He was chirpy, and though under the surface he was deeply troubled, he'd gotten rather talented at masking it and carrying on with everyday life. Their meetings had been better as of recent, and it seemed as if things were slowly beginning to turn around. Alfred hoped that it would all be over soon.

He walked down the hallway with a powerful stride and a heavily determined look about him - much different to the Alfred of last May. Though, this year, he hadn't bothered brushing his hair. Recently, he'd been out on an expedition that went extremely well, and so, Alfred's confidence was showing. So much so that he hadn't even bothered wearing a proper suit today. He was rather comfy in his ordinary uniform and his bomber jacket, and he'd been doing the same for the past couple of monthly meetings. To begin with, Arthur wasn't pleased, but, Alfred told him, it didn't actually make a difference to the meeting - so Arthur left it.

"About bloody time." Said Arthur, his arms folded. Alfred had just walked in.  
"He's always late, did it surprise you that much?" Yao.. didn't really ask. It was more of a rhetorical question.  
Ivan smiled from where he was sat.  
"Well, he is here now, so we can begin! I can always teach him not to be late if it bothers you, England."  
Arthur frowned.  
"I.. don't think we'll be needing any of that. But thank you for the um.. offer, Ivan."  
Francis just twirled his hair, waiting for Arthur to say something that could be playfully used against him.  
"Yeah I don't think so either." Alfred said, taking his jacket off and putting it on the back of the old wooden chair. He sat down next to Francis this time.  
Arthur stood up.  
"Then I think we can begin."

\---

Alfred groaned. When he actually listened to every single thing that everyone said, actually including Arthur, his head started hurting. He wasn't really interested when Arthur went off on a tangent about a nice café he'd visited - in fact, Arthur always blamed Alfred for disruption, but he himself wasn't the best at staying on topic. He had a tendency to ramble about how royal and great he was. Soon enough though, the meeting was finally coming to an end, and everyone was getting up to leave for the general hall. Alfred fancied some snacks, so he was definitely going to be there, he decided quickly. He didn't quite get to leave though, before-  
"Alfred!"  
Alfred groaned.  
"What's up this time, old man?"  
Arthur stomped over and wagged a finger at him in a tiny little fit of anger.  
"I'm not an old man! I'm not that old!" He snapped, before he just shook his head and toned it down a little. "Brush your hair before you come into the hall. It looks greasy and awful!"  
With that, he marched away, presumably to drink himself silly. Yao and Ivan followed him, discussing something between themselves. Alfred just signed.  
"Thought you might actually need a hairbrush." Said Francis, almost startling Alfred. He'd thought that the Frenchman had left prior to Arthur doing so.  
"And you don't have one, boy, do you?"  
Alfred chuckled.  
"Ya got me."  
Francis passed him the brush, and Alfred tried his best to neaten the absolute wild mess that was his hair. Whenever he tried to flatten it, it just sprung back up and looked almost exactly the same. Noticing Francis quietly chuckling away at him, Alfred began to dramatise it for comedic effect.  
"I used to brush your hair when you were a little baby, you know. I can't believe you still need help."  
Alfred stuck his tongue out at him, and Francis got up from where he'd still been sitting to come and see to the struggling American.  
"Look," said Francis, tucking bits of Alfred's hair behind each other. "it's easier to keep it in shape if you do it like this. You must have learned that whole messy hair thing from Arthur. Shame on that silly English bastard!"  
Alfred snorted at the last part.  
"There." Francis took a step back, admiring his work. "Looks better now, doesn't it?"  
"Nah. I like it messy n' stuff." He said.  
Francis tutted.  
"You truly are still such a child at heart... My my, Alfred. You're all grown up. Just look at you now."  
Francis looked up at Alfred, smiling a little.  
"I remember holding you and your brother both, as babies, when Arthur needed some time away." He said sincerely, before he began laughing to himself. "Oh, whenever Arthur cradled you both, Matthew cried and you yelled and pulled his hair, you know. When I did it, however, you both went straight to sleep like little angels!"  
Francis looked smug, clearly admiring his own work of the past. Even Alfred chuckled at the idea of Arthur having to watch, probably mortified and enraged, as Francis just worked his magic.  
"Well, we should probably be getting to the hall, no?" Francis asked putting his hands in his pockets. The two of them had to bite back a laugh, because they were both secretly wondering if Arthur was already shitfaced.  
"Yeah, uh- lemme jus' grab my jacket-" Alfred replied, trotting over to where his leather jacket was still on the back of the seat. 

Preoccupied with thinking about other things, Alfred carelessly swung his jacket off of his chair, over his arms and on. He'd completely forgotten about the inside pocket, and from his reckless motion, one of the letters fell out and onto the floor.  
Alfred noticed right away and rushed to grab the thing, but Francis was quicker, and picked it up first - and of course, being a little nosy, he had to unfold and see what was in there.  
"Francis- I-"  
Francis shushed him, reading. He seemed to stop, and then just stare at the paper for a while.  
"Alfred..." Francis began, his voice quiet. Very quiet. "..Alfred, what is this?"  
"I can explain-!"  
"Alfred..! Alfred seriously, what is this?!"  
"Francis don't be mad I can explain-"  
"You don't need to, Alfred. I suddenly think I understand.."  
Alfred was silent, and lowered his head. He suddenly feared the worst. He suddenly feared that he'd be imprisoned for this - abandoned or just plain yelled at.  
"This.. is a letter of endearment." Francis softly stated. "From.. From.. Japan..?"  
"Y-yeah.. you know.. Kiku.."  
"Trust me, I know Mr Kiku Honda.. We were decent friends."  
Francis went quiet.  
"Have you.. been sending letters in return to these?"  
Shuffling his foot, Alfred suddenly looked shameful and anxious. He'd been on top form all day, but he hadn't even considered this when he went to grab his jacket. Francis nodded as if he understand that meant a sheepish yes.  
"Were you two..?" Francis finally looked up from the paper, directly at Alfred, who swallowed.  
"Before the war.. yeah.. we were.. um.." Alfred scratched his head, almost messing up the hair that Francis had just neatened. "..Lovers.. yeah.."  
Francis looked sad. He bit his lip, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, before using the same hand to reach out and touch the side of Alfred's face.  
"You still love him, don't you, Alfred?"  
Alfred swallowed again, hard this time, and nodded.  
"I do. I love him. Please.. don't tell, Francis."  
Francis nodded and brought his hand away, before offering the letter back to Alfred. He raised his head and opened his mouth to speak.  
"Tell me everything."

\---

"Oh, Alfred, how do you manage to get yourself into these situations?!" Cried Francis, his head in his hands.

The two hadn't gone to the hall. Instead, they sat together in the dusty old meeting room, across the table from each other. Alfred was surprised that nobody of the other three had come to find them: they'd been here a while - Francis insisted on knowing almost everything now that he'd seen the letter.  
"Francis I jus'-"  
Francis wiped an eye with his sleeve, sniffling a little.  
"You promised to kiss him under a cherry blossom tree.. that's beautiful.."  
"Francis! I-"  
"That's so beautiful.. Y-you're.. you two are star crossed lovers... A love that wasn't meant to be.."  
Alfred sat back and just let Francis have his moment.  
"Francis.. does this mean you're.. I don't know.. like.. on my side, then?"  
Francis cleaned himself up.  
"Alfred, this is.. so very dangerous, and it breaks every rule in the book.. but Alfred, you're like a son to me, and my baby's in love.. I can't not support that!"  
Francis then sighed.  
"I'll support you.. alright, Alfred? If you ever need someone to speak to about it.. I'll be there. I wouldn't let the others know just yet.. they may not take if well."  
Alfred took it all in and nodded slowly. He was kind of taken aback by Francis' understanding.  
"Thank you." He said truthfully. "Shall we.. get to that hall now..?"

Francis smiled.  
"Yes, we shall! Oho, Arthur must be off his face with the drink already~! How amusing!"


	6. A traitor and a liar.

Kiku desperately wanted to send a letter. He was aching to - it had been so long. Well over a year, since he'd sent Alfred a letter, and yet.. he knew. Kiku wasn't stupid - not in the slightest and in fact, easily one of the smartest in the entire regiment that he was in. So of course, he picked it up easily when he was being watched over. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to make them suspicious; He'd taken every precaution in the book when sending and writing his letters, which meant that someone knew more than he'd like. Maybe it was just that he was so secretive about them, that he ran off to his room to read and write them and never shared them with anyone else. Maybe that was it. Whatever it was, Kiku wished they'd just forget about it - but because of his status as a nation and the fact that his higher-ups knew of said status, they weren't going to let it go easily.

Takami came and sat with him again at lunch, and ended up talking to him about their last battle. It had been a pretty close one, but they'd come through. Only just. Kiku was barely listening, not really eating today, either. He'd eaten his breakfast, so it wasn't like he was starving. He just didn't feel like it. For the last few years he barely had, and it had been weakening and tearing away at his body - but Kiku didn't really care. It's not like he could die.   
Even without any answers, Takami would usually just keep talking to him. He kind of reminded Kiku of Alfred a little like that. Alfred was very good like that too. Alfred didn't mind when Kiku wanted to be quiet. Alfred was happy to just keep talking to Kiku when all Kiku wanted to do was watch the sky and lean on Alfred's chest. Kiku missed Alfred. A lot.   
When he wasn't getting letters from him, unable to send them, Kiku really missed Alfred. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that he knew Alfred was out there somewhere, hopefully looking for him.   
He wanted to see Alfred.   
In his free time, Kiku barely did anything but read Alfred's letters. He read them every day, even though his heart hurt when he knew he couldn't yet tell Alfred how much he loved him.  
Kiku had to wait until it was safe to do so.  
"Well, I've finished, so I'll see you later, Kiku." Said Takami, getting up from the floor where they'd sat. Kiku had completely drifted off, and felt a little bad for it. He sat by himself a while, just listening instead to the crowd around him. He suddenly heard his name again, and a little anxiety stirred within him. Kiku suddenly didn't want to be here anymore. He too, got up to leave, and left his food. He didn't feel like it.

He was going to go back to his room, he'd decided, and just sit. He'd read Alfred's letters again, maybe. He didn't have anything else to do.   
Kiku walked quickly down the corridor, just wanting to be within the peace and quiet. That was all he wanted right now. That, and of course.. Alfred. But the latter was impossible right now, so Kiku would settle for peace and quiet.   
It was always like this. Always. All he could think about was America-san. His heart pounded for America-san.

He longed for Alfred to hold him in his arms, and gently pet his hair as he nestled into his warm clothing and his earthy fragrance.

It was when Kiku finally got to his room that something was incredibly off. He hadn't left it like this.   
There was a mess all over the floor - and he certainly wasn't a messy person but-  
He didn't even have time to think about it. The door slammed behind him, and he spun around in panic. Five men stood at the back wall. He recognised them, but he didn't know them. They were in the same crew, but he didn't speak with them if he could avoid it. They were rather.. rough, and Kiku tended to veer away from that wherever he could.   
He swallowed. He kind of had to say something.  
"May I... Help you?" He asked, his voice quiet and calm despite what he was seemingly faced with.

The man in the middle - seemingly the leader - lunged for him. He was grabbed by the throat. Slammed against the wall. Lifted off of his feet as he choked and clawed at the man's hand. He hadn't been prepared for that, of all things.   
"You're a fucking joke, you know that, Honda?! A fucking joke." The man spat, clutching down harder. "I know what you've been up to. We all know, fucking traitor."  
With that, he practically threw Kiku down. He hit the floor with some force and a loud bang.   
Kiku coughed and spluttered, regaining his breath.   
"I don't know what you're talking about." He wheezed, even though he was clearly lying.   
For that, he took a kick to the face, resulting in a grunt from him before he tried to retaliate.  
"I said," Kiku began to repeat, "that I don't know what you're talking about"  
He was kicked again before the collar of his jacket was grabbed at the front and he was forcefully sat up. The man got right up in his face.  
Dark red blood trickled out of his nose.  
"You do. You know exactly what I mean, liar. You really are some liar, aren't you?"   
He grabbed Kiku's jaw, and got uncomfortably close to his face.  
"I've seen the letters." He growled. "Liar, traitor."   
Kiku's eyes widened. No.   
The crewman let go of his face and he dropped to the floor again. He had less than a second to process what was going on before his head was tilted upwards and he was hit around the side of his face. With impact.  
Kiku yelped for the first time since the beginning of the ordeal, and they did nothing but laugh, standing around him like a pack of hungry animals.   
"We've seen." Said the leader. "We all have. Your letters to the fucking enemy? Your fucking prince charming? It's bad enough that you can't even love a woman like a real man. It's worse that you communicate with our fucking enemies. Tell me, Honda, did it ever occur to you that you're not the only bastard here who understands English?"   
Kiku said nothing.  
"Now, every man here knows what you've done. Who you really are."   
Two of the men at the side came over and grabbed his arms, dragging him back and up the wall. They pinned him there, even though he struggled, and the other three watched from a short distance.  
"Hey Honda!" Called one of the others. "Do you think you're a fucking hero?! You're a traitor! What would your country think of you, huh?"  
"What would your country think of YOU?!" Kiku spat back, making direct eye contact.   
For that he took another blow to the face, and with that, blood began to pour from his lip, too.   
The ringleader walked over, getting close. He practically pressed himself right up to Kiku and further trapped him between the wall and himself. The other two kept a solid grip on his arms - that alone was going to leave marks and bruises.   
Turned his head away as the man leaned in. He could feel his breath. It was horrible.  
"Hey Honda, you're into this sort of thing, aren't you?" He taunted. The others giggled in the back, though Kiku couldn't even see because of how close this guy was. "Is this what you like, you fucking whore? Is this what you do with your big strong American man?"  
"Stop, please." Kiku breathed. He didn't want any of this. He didn't want to be humiliated and shown up like this. It was one of the worst things he could think of - however, he really reacted when he felt the man's hands on his hips - and then he panicked for real.

He kicked out best he could, and managed to kick hard enough that the guy flew backward and the other two dropped him, stunned. Kiku dropped to the floor and crumpled. He shook, but he tried to hide it. He felt sick and ill and right now, more than absolutely anything, he just wanted Alfred. This was cruel. A cruel punishment for love.

"You'll pay for that." The leader said, getting up slowly. He cast a dark shadow over Kiku, who was still trapped at the back of the room.   
The man walked over and tilted his head as if thinking hard about something.   
Then, he spun, and his leg hit Kiku's stomach with force. Kiku cried out in pain, but he didn't have a moment more to think. The guy did the same action a second time, and a third, and after the third blow, Kiku's body reacted by itself.   
He retched, and choked, a gutteral sound coming from him, and he spat blood onto the floor. He brought up enough blood that, when he brought his hand up to his mouth in a broken attempt to stop it, the blood just ran straight through his fingers.   
Kiku took another blow to the head - and then another to the stomach, before the leader came and crouched down to where he was heaving, clutching his stomach and saying not a word.  
"Now, Honda.. you're suddenly not looking too good. What's wrong?"   
The guys crooked friends snickered.   
"Is this lesson a little much for you? I'm sorry, but it's a lesson you need to learn."  
Kiku said absolutely nothing, but he looked on, his eyes full of anxiousness, when his crewmate pulled a small blade from his pocket. He held it to Kiku's throat, pinning him back against the wall.  
"We aren't quite done learning yet, though. I want to leave a mark on you, if you know what I mean. I want to make you remember how much of a dirty traitor you are."   
He traced the knife down Kiku's body, stopping at the lower side of his abdomen. He pushed a little on the handle, piercing the skin, but not going too deep. Kiku gasped in pain, but he didn't retaliate. He didn't have the energy, the will.  
"Does that hurt? It better fucking hurt." Said the man.   
"Careful, Yamato. We aren't trying to kill him." One of the others said.  
Ah, that was his name.   
"Oh, I'm not going to kill him. Just making sure he'll remember this." Said Yamato.  
He pushed the knife further in slightly, practically laughing at Kiku's cry. He quickly removed the blade after he was happy, and watched as his work took effect.   
He got up, and swung with his shin for Kiku's head again, knocking him to the floor.   
"Get up." He commanded. "Get up, or else."  
'Yamato' knelt back down, putting his hand over Kiku's wrist.  
"I'm serious. Get yourself up." He told him, and when Kiku didn't budge, he quickly slammed his palm down with enough force that he heard the snap.   
Kiku's sharp yell was enough to tell him that that'd worked. There was just one last thing. One last warning he'd got planned.

Yamato stood back up, and grabbed Kiku's hair.   
"Such a perfect black." He remarked. "What a fucking waste."  
With that, he used his grip on the man to pull Kiku up by his hair and drag him across the room whilst he begged and cried for him to stop.  
The crimson blood of his stomach got smeared across the floor as he was dragged. It left an ugly mark, but nobody cared.   
Kiku was pinned back against the wall for a third time.  
"Final warning, Honda. Don't you ever fucking betray your people again. You hear that?"   
Kiku was silent, and motionless, so the violent ringleader of the group took to yelling.  
"Do you fucking hear?!" He shouted. "I'm being kind to you, Honda. I'm being very kind, because I'm not going to say a word to our higher-ups, and god if they found out, you don't want to know what you'd be in for. So, do you hear me?"  
Kiku painfully nodded.   
"I want a fucking verbal answer, Honda."  
Kiku hesitated.  
"I hear." He choked. Even the act of opening his mouth caused more blood to pour like some sort of hellish waterfall.   
Yamato let go of him, and watched as he fell to the floor.

"In that case.." said Yamato, pulling something out of both his pockets.  
Kiku's stomach churned. Everything hurt. He didn't want to watch.  
In one hand, Yamato held the letters, and in another, he held a gas fueled lighter.  
In less than just a few seconds, the deed was done.   
Kiku glanced, and then held his head down in shame, as he saw the bundle of flames hit the steel floor.  
"It's over." Stated Yamato. "And you can clean up this entire mess."

They just walked out. Nothing else. They just left, and Kiku watched in agony as the flames died down and nothing but a pile of ash was left. He was trapped, he was in pain and he was trapped - he couldn't ask for help, because then everyone would know. He had to bare it. Kiku finally broke. He just wanted Alfred. He just needed Alfred.

Outside the room, Takami was standing around, unsure on what do do. Even from outside in the halls, anyone could hear Kiku's harrowed sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is horrible im so sorry don't hate me :(((


	7. I love you, come back to me

When Alfred got word his next expedition would be to infiltrate a small base in Japan, a part of him was hoping, ever so slightly, that he would run into Kiku. It was bad, he knew, to be so distracted and especially when it came to something so serious, but now.. the year: 1944. It seemed endless. The war, seemed endless.

It had been three years now since he'd heard from him. Alfred was simply just getting desperate.   
For the past two years now, he'd at least had Francis on his side. Someone he could talk to about the situation - that way he didn't have to bottle up his feelings. That, he knew, would break him.   
He hoped that Kiku had someone to talk to, too.

Alfred worried about Kiku a lot. Where had he been for three years? Had something happened to him? Was he alright? Was he hurt? Unwell? Trapped? Imprisoned?

This mission would be pretty easy. It was only a small base, so with a team of decent size, they could easily infiltrate, capture, and destroy, liberating the prisoners at the same time.   
Alfred slid his jacket over his shoulders, letting the heavy leather weigh down on his shoulders. He swung his pack over his shoulder, and brushed a hand through his hair - an absent minded action. Though Alfred's heart reached and dreamed of this that were impossible, Alfred's mind knew that this mission would be.. difficult. It would be high in technical difficulty, yes, but Alfred knew that this would also be difficult on his mind. He didn't like to kill people if he could help it - at all. He never had, and it made war and such very, very difficult. A lot of the time, Alfred would be haunted by thoughts of those he killed, and the fact that they probably had lovers, and families out there who were missing them terribly. Alfred hated that he was responsible for things like that. However, he knew, deep down, that he was protecting his own in doing so. He had to do what was right for the people of America. It was quite literally his duty.

Before he left to meet with the others, Alfred reached deep in his inside pocket. The left one - the one that laid close to where his heart was situated. He pulled out the tiny photograph.   
It had been battered over the years. It was a yellowed colour now, with tears and scratches dotted here and there. It was crumpled and had fold lines galore, but Alfred still treasured it.   
He'd taken the photo on a hot summers day in 1939. It had been June, Alfred was sure. Alfred had been visiting Japan at the time, and had stayed at Kiku's house for the few weeks that he was there. They'd done everything together in those last few weeks before they were split.   
This particular photograph had always been Alfred's favourite. It was just a picture of Kiku, rather than the both of them. In it, he was standing in front of a large Azalea shrub. That specific bush had bloomed late, and so it was covered in trumpet shaped flowers which made for a stunning background to the picture. Even though the picture was in black and white, Alfred vividly remembered that the flowers were a brilliant, bright, vermillion red.   
Kiku wore a hefty, silk-made, rich-violet kimono that Alfred remembered had looked flawless on him. Each individual layer added to the overall appearance that made the look nothing less than stunning. Alfred remembered how, on the same day, he'd worn an unbuttoned cream shirt and some run-of-the-mill brown pants that didn't quite fit him right. The tie around his neck hadn't even been fastened once that day, much to poor Kiku's exasperation, with him getting properly dressed and all.   
Alfred remembered how, also to Kiku's slight annoyance, he'd picked a few flowers from the Azalea, and intertwined the stems to make a tiny bunch of them. He'd put the bunch behind Kiku's right ear, tucking a midnight lock back there to keep it in place, and then he'd put some flowers in his own hair too, whilst he laughed at Kiku simply sighing and shaking his head at the action. In the photo, those flowers were still there.   
The most important thing about the photo, though, was Kiku's smile. It was rare to see Kiku smile like that - let alone catch him doing so on camera. It was a wide and sincere smile, his face scrunched up a little and his cheeks slightly pink. His head was tilted back, his bangs framing his high jawline, his hickory brown eyes full of life even in this greyed out version. He'd been laughing at something Alfred had said. Something silly, little, ridiculous, but it had been enough to make Kiku laugh at him, and that was all that really mattered to Alfred. Seeing that stunning smile was all that mattered.  
Alfred tenderly kissed the tip of the photo, muttering a soft and sincere 'I love you, come back to me' before tucking the photograph back into his pocket.

So then, of course, it was time to go. Alfred took in a sharp breath, and set off, joining his men. This would be a long flight.

\---

When they arrived, the sun was setting in Japan. The sky burned a murky orangey-red, a dirty colour rather than a brilliant one. The group were swift, hiding between trees and bushes as they got closer and closer to their destination. Even at dusk, it was hot today.   
The dusty ground was still heated from the day's hot sun and it scorched their skin as they knelt and leant on it. They were nearing the base, travelling through a small, seemingly abandoned village when bang- the loud explosive noise set Alfred's ears ringing but he knew what was going on. He knew was was happening. Alfred set off at a full sprint, yelling as loud as possible for the others to get down. This wasn't good.   
"Jones!" His captain screamed as Alfred got close. "I need you to go ahead - it'll be dangerous, but I know you can do it. You're my best man."   
Alfred nodded, and he ran.  
He ran past the gunshots and the explosions and he ran knowing that he was aiming for their captain. He was going to find and kill their captain whilst his men back there tried to kill the other soldiers.   
Alfred shot down anyone who got in his path - his way. He had to. He had to do it to protect his friends back there. It was just procedure.

However, it was as if people were beginning to realise his presence. He had to get away and hide for a few seconds, breathe for a few seconds; so he ran down some random streets, zig-zagging until they lost him and until he darted away and could hide.   
They were gone, and Alfred slowed to a walk. He heaved, panting for breath, and staggered along, gun in hand. He hadn't realised that there was blood seeping from his shoulder, but it looked a sight. There was dust on his clothes, his face, everything.   
Alfred managed to find a narrow alleyway, and began travelling down there, hoping it would lead him somewhere he needed to be. Above the rooftops of the buildings, he could see the setting sun. He must be going west, then.

He came to another tiny little street, and at the end of the street, there were seemingly no more buildings. It was just open, and the sky, the sun, were all in perfect sight.

In front of the sun, stood a figure. The colour may have been blacked out to nothing but a silhouette behind the intense red of the sun, but Alfred's heart stopped. Short height, thin figure, the elegant way the man stood as he stared into the orange sky. It was unmistakable.

Alfred didn't know what to do, or say. He'd dreamed of this, but he'd told himself it was impossible.

"Long time no see." Was the first thing that escaped Alfred's lips, as he stood, and stared.   
Slowly, the man in front of him turned, revealing his face.  
"Mr Jones. It has been a long time." Said Kiku.  
There was silence for a second, as the two stared at each other.   
"It's you, isn't it?" Said Alfred. A gust of wind blew at his hair and his jacket, causing them to flutter slightly. "Kiku, it's really you, right?"  
"Of course it is." Replied Kiku.  
Alfred felt himself welling up. He felt the tears in his eyes and the ache in his chest. He flung himself at Kiku.   
Except-  
Alfred was pushed- hard- causing him to fall back onto his bottom. He looked up, confused.  
"Don't touch me." Kiku said, his voice monotone and unwavering. "I don't know you. You're an enemy to me."  
Alfred scrambled, adjusted his lenses, looking up at Kiku. His voice went quiet.  
"Kiku, it's me..? It's Alfred! America! You know me..!"   
Kiku said nothing, so Alfred got back up on his feet.   
The American just outstretched his arms.  
"Kiku.. please. Nobody's here. Nobody can hurt you. Hug me."  
Kiku was silent again.. before..  
He drew his gun.  
He drew his gun, and pressed the end to Alfred's chest. His finger lay on the trigger.  
"Go." He said. "Go, and do not come back. Go back the way you came and never come back here again." "Kiku.." Muttered Alfred in return, tears dripping from his chin. His voice had broke, his hands were shaking. He still left his arms outstretched, desperate for that hug.  
"GO!" Yelled Kiku, violently shoving the gun further into his chest. "NOW."  
Alfred half gasped, half cried. Never in his life had he heard Kiku Honda raise his voice. He lowered his arms, and began to back away slightly.   
"Run or I'll kill you." Said Kiku. "Run away, or I will hurt you so badly you'll wish you were dead."  
Alfred continued slowly backing away. He was going to do what Kiku wished. He'd turn, and he'd run. He wasn't sure why this was happening, and he wished it wasn't, but Alfred knew something was awfully, incredibly wrong. However, there was but one last thing.

"Kiku Honda.." Alfred barely more than whispered, as he began to turn his back. "I love you."  
Kiku's face, position, emotion did not change.  
"Then you better go find someone else to love." He said. "Because I do not love you, Alfred Jones."


	8. When it all came flooding back,

When Alfred got back, got a little bit of free time, he didn't even want to do anything with it.  
He didn't know what he wanted to do, or if he wanted to do anything at all.  
He didn't understand.  
His head spun, and his chest ached, and his eyes burned and he didn't understand.  
What had he done?  
Had he hurt Kiku? Was it his fault?  
Had.. had someone else hurt Kiku? Is that what it was? Maybe someone had found out about their secret together. Maybe Kiku had been through awful things that Alfred couldn't understand if he tried to. If that was the case, it was still his own fault, Alfred decided. It was still his own fault for not thinking more and putting Kiku in danger - and.. if that wasn't the case.. then maybe Kiku just didn't love him anymore.  
An awful thought hit him.  
What if Kiku had never loved him? Perhaps it had been a well thought out lie to get information. Was that all his love was? Was that all he was to Kiku Honda? Nothing but information.  
Maybe that was it.  
Alfred just sat at his desk. He took in a good, deep breath, and reached into his inside pocket, pulling everything out.  
He scattered the letters across the desk, including the drawing and the photograph, and just stared at them blankly.  
Had he just been a fool? Had he just been an idiot? Nothing more..?  
'I love you' caught his eye over and over, whilst 'I do not love you' repeated loudly in his head.  
Everything hurt.  
His head screamed, his heart cried.  
Everything hurt.

Alfred piled up the letters, and put them away into a drawer on the desk. He didn't want to discard them, or destroy them - there was still a part of him that clung onto them in the tiniest bit of hope - but he didn't want them in his jacket anymore. He didn't want them close to his heart anymore.  
He closed the drawer, and in doing so, realised what it meant.  
He was saying goodbye.  
He was saying goodbye, but Alfred didn't want to say goodbye. He'd been in love - he'd been enchanted and captivated by another person - someone he wished to belong with for the rest of his life. Or so he thought.  
Only then did Alfred realise he was crying.  
Only when, tears hit the floor and his shoulders trembled and all he could see in his mind was Kiku's beautiful face, did Alfred realise he was crying. Normally, he'd shrug it off. He'd tell himself to get over it and get on with the day.  
But this was no normal.  
The love that used to burn for Kiku was nothing such as normal.  
And so, Alfred leaned down onto the desk, and cried. Once he started, he couldn't stop, and his eyes and his throat and his chest hurt but his mind yelled to keep mourning the loss of everything he'd been fighting for until now. The loss of wonder, fascination, the loss of love.

What even was love? Alfred thought to himself.. he'd thought, he'd been so sure, that he knew what love was. That he knew what love meant. Love meant that you wanted to be with someone forever, right? It meant that you wanted to see someone's smile and hear them laugh, and hold them tightly when smiles were not of the day's bringing. He had thought that love meant cherishing someone's warmth, their being, their mere existence and the miraculous fact that it just so happened to coincide with your own.  
Alfred didn't know anymore.  
If that's what love was, then he had loved Kiku, and Kiku had loved him. If that's what love was, then he still loved Kiku.

He still loved everything about Kiku. His gentle mannerisms, the way his smile was tiny and soft, and how he lowered his head often to hide it a little. The way that his real smile was toothy and big and made his face scrunch up like a little kid's. The way he was quiet, but thoughtful, and full of knowledge and experience. The way he was shy, how he was nervous about romance and how he let Alfred lead the way. Alfred loved the way that Kiku existed. Alfred loved the simple beauty of Kiku's every move, how he was slow and graceful like a swan. How he glowed in the morning sunlight, and how he was warm to touch and hug. Alfred still loved him, it was clear.

So of course, then it all came flooding back. As Alfred sat with his head down on the desk, buried in his arms, sobbing for what he'd lost, every memory with Kiku came back.

He remembered how he'd met Kiku - how he'd convinced him to open his borders and how he'd signed that trade deal with him. He remembered how Kiku was timid, how he was shut in and reserved. He remembered not understanding why, but he also remembered how he took a shine to the man straight away.  
He remembered growing to become close friends with Kiku. He remembered how they'd play games together and teach about each others different cultures. Alfred remembered trying to learn Japanese as Kiku learned English - only one of them really got through that one.  
He remembered how he developed a crush on Kiku, how he couldn't stop thinking about him and wanted to go to his house more and more, and he remembered how Kiku didn't stop him, but rather.. welcomed him.  
He remembered saying three fateful words to Kiku, taking his chances, his heart thudding. How Kiku had blushed and smiled, and nodded and hadn't been sure what to do.  
Alfred remembered holding Kiku's hand, remembered hugging him, dancing with him when nobody else was watching.  
Alfred remembered standing under a cherry blossom tree, and holding Kiku's face as he kissed him on the lips. He remembered how they went home and how that night, Kiku had looked glorious. How his face with his eyes closed and his lips curved in a smile of bliss had looked nothing less than godly as Alfred made him feel like he never had before. Alfred remembered how later that night, he lay on the soft futon, Kiku's head on his chest, and how he held Kiku all night, protecting him from anything and everything other than love and kindness.  
Alfred remembered how they went everywhere together, spent every second of every day together, how they never wanted to part.

He remembered how he'd finally found a purpose. A reason for being cheerful, strong. A reason for carrying on in a world that was growing to hate him. Kiku Honda was that reason.

Had it all been for nothing?

He had to talk to Francis. He had to talk to everyone - Arthur, Ivan, Yao. He needed them to know. He'd had enough of lying, pretending, and now that it was all over..  
He had to.  
Francis was first up, of course. He had to explain what had happened, and get the Frenchman's verdict. Now.  
Alfred stood, and cleaned himself up in the mirror best he could, taking a large deep breath. He was going to go to the telephone, and he was going to do it right now.

He marched down the corridor, not listening to calls of his friends wanting to see if he'd get drunk with them. He never really did, anyway - though suddenly the promise of escape that came with alcohol seemed.. tempting. He barged his way into the room and used the little authority he had to kick out the soldiers who were already in there.  
He picked up the telephone, and dialled.  
"Hello? Yes, I need to speak to Francis Bonnefoy." Alfred practically announced. "Tell him that it's Alfred Jones, and that it's urgent."  
The man on the other end of the phone muttered something that Alfred didn't quite catch, before he heard rustling and a bit of yelling in what he presumed was French.  
"Sorry about all that, Alfred," said Francis when he got on the phone. "Are you alright? What's the matter?"  
Alfred fiddled. He hadn't actually planned out where to go from here. It had just been an impulse decision.  
"It's.. It's about Kiku, Francis, something-"  
"Boy! You couldn't have waited until we next met? It can't be that urge-"  
"Francis, you're not even fuckin' listening."  
Francis sighed on the other end of the phone.  
"What is it, then?"  
"I think I've been a huge idiot this entire time, Francis."  
"How so...?"  
Alfred hesitated.  
"I.. I'm not sure he loved me, Francis."  
So with that, Alfred went on to explain the events of yesterday, and how he'd been in turmoil since.  
How Kiku had threatened him and how he'd not been able to understand why. Francis listened quietly on the other end of the phone.  
"So.. I don't know what to do.. You're all I've got, Francis."  
It sounded like Francis was fidgeting.  
"I'm not sure what to tell you, Alfred. You know him better than me.. and if you truly think that it is over, then.."  
Francis went quiet for a second, listening to how Alfred's breaths had become shaky.  
"Don't cry, boy. It's alright. You'll figure something out."  
"I... Yeah.." Alfred trailed off. "I'll figure something out, I suppose. Thank you Francis... I'll get going now."

The two said goodbye and then Alfred put the phone down.  
He stared at it, wondering what to do next - no, he knew what to do next, but rather, he was wondering if he should. He dialled anyway.  
"Hey, uh, could I speak to Arthur Kirkland? Tell him it's Alfred Jones."  
"Right, Sir." Said the man on the other end of the phone.  
Brits always sounded so snobby, thought Alfred.  
"Alfred? What's up, duck? You.. don't tend to call me."  
"Hey, Arthur. I know."  
"You sound like you've been crying, love. Are you alright?"  
Alfred took a deep breath.  
"Not really. I've got a long story for ya, Artie. I decided maybe it's time you knew.."  
"About what?"  
Alfred went quiet again, tapping on the desk. He hadn't exactly planned this call either. He hadn't really expected Arthur to have time for him. He was never sure that Arthur really cared that much.  
He heard some rustling on the other end of the phone, as if Arthur covered the speaker. He could still hear everything in the background, even though it was muffled.  
"Can you not see that I'm busy?" He heard. "It's my little brother and he doesn't call so fuck off you silly bastard!"  
Alfred set off chuckling. Maybe Arthur did care a little, after all. That was just what he needed.. really. Some more rustling, and  
"Sorry about that, pet. Now.. are you alright?"  
Alfred inhaled.  
"I fell in love, and uh, it.. it was complicated.. and it didn't work out.. so.."  
He broke off, not sure where to go. His voice still wavered, and Arthur picked up on it very quickly.  
"You've a broken heart, haven't you poppet? Is it just that you need someone to talk to?"  
"Yeah.. kinda."  
"Who was the lady, anyway?"  
"Man actually.. you knew 'im."  
"Did I..?"  
"Don't get mad, Arthur, but this entire time.. I've.. kinda been in love with another nation. J-japan, actually."  
Arthur went quiet for an alarmingly long time.  
"Arthur please, don't be upset with me-"  
"I'm not upset, or mad, love. It's just.. A lot to process.. considering."  
"I know."  
Alfred twiddled a thumb and a finger, unsure of what else to say.  
"So.. you've been together.. even through all this?"  
"Yeah.."  
The two went quiet.  
"You said it didn't work out." Said Arthur quietly, as if he was half there, half processing the information he'd been given.  
Alfred choked on a cry.  
"Y-yeah. I was an idiot, Arthur. He betrayed me. I don't think.. I don't think he ever.."  
"Well I'll bloody kill him!"  
"Arthur!"  
"So you think.."  
"I don't know what I think, Arthur!" Alfred interrupted, his emotions finally getting the better of him.  
Arthur said nothing as Alfred cried down the phone for a few minutes. Even though it was barely intelligible, Alfred told Arthur everything. It just all came flooding out. From the day they'd met to the nightmare that was yesterday, everything came. Arthur listened carefully and waited until Alfred finished rambling.  
"Now then, dear. It's alright.. you've learned, haven't you? Love is a strange thing Alfred.. but there's one thing I want you to listen to, alright?"  
Alfred nodded even though Arthur couldn't see him.  
"Right."  
"Alfred... Don't give up on him just yet. I think from what you've told me, he might still love you."  
"But he said-"  
"You told me what he said. I think there's a small chance, Alfred, that he was protecting you yesterday."  
Alfred went quiet.  
"They're saying, love, that the end of the war is in sight. Hang on."  
"Thank you, Arthur."  
"Anytime, pet... Please do call your old man more, won't you?"  
Alfred smiled.  
"You know what..? Maybe I will, old man. See you, Arthur."

Suddenly, Alfred felt a little better. He just hoped that Arthur was right.


	9. I still love you.

Motionless, but not emotionless, was the state of him.   
With every bang, with every sudden movement, he flinched and fled, and with every raised voice, he felt his gut wrench and his instinct to run begin to kick in.   
Whenever he was in his room alone, he did nothing.   
Nothing but press himself up against the wall, his knees to the top of his head and his arms around his legs. He did nothing but sit like that and stare blankly into the darkness.   
He was frightened and alone.   
It was cold, and his body hurt and ached with the bruises and cuts that he kept sustaining whenever the rest of the crew felt like they needed to take out their anger on something.   
He'd made himself a primary target, and would forever be known as the filthy traitor amongst his men.

Kiku Honda was beginning to become more than just frightened and alone. He was terrified and lonely.

Over the past few years now, he'd been known as a liar. A liar, a traitor, the black sheep. The men in his crew, including the captain and everyone, had promised not to report him to higher ups so long as he didn't say a word - so he didn't.   
He was too scared to talk.   
Kiku didn't even want to know what people higher up in the army might do to him if they found out. He knew, that these were the people who knew of his immortality, and so if they found out, they could do things to him that would bring anyone else the end of suffering that was death.  
Not Kiku, though. If they found out, and punished him for it, then he'd live through it all, no matter what they did.   
He shuddered. He didn't want to think about it - but there were only three things he could think about, and all three of those things terrorised him.  
It was always what had been done to him, what could potentially be done to him, or.. Alfred.   
Only those three things.

As he'd been known as a traitor, anyone had pretty much taken out anything on him. Anger, frustration, anything at all. He'd become nothing but a punching bag, basically.  
He'd had it beaten into him countless times that he was a traitor. That he was to never, ever, make contact with that man again. That if he did, they'd tell.

He didn't have anyone on his side, anymore, either. Takami had been the only person who, every so often, would come over and give him a pat on the shoulder; a little reassurance that someone cared.  
Takami was dead.

The kind man had been taken out in a regular battle. He'd been shot in the head - an instant death. At least, Kiku thought, at the very least, it wouldn't have hurt - he wouldn't have even had time to know what had happened before he died.   
Kiku had already decided, that when this horrific war was over, he would visit Takami's family. The man had a wife and children, and Kiku had decided that he would like to tell those children stories of their heroic father's bravery.

Kiku wished he was that brave. He was nothing but a coward. A lowly, lying, traitorous coward. Someone who clung to others and feared trivial things and hid from his problems in a desperate attempt to get away.

Kiku pressed himself further into the corner. He'd heard some footsteps. It was nothing, simply a colleague walking by, but anything shook him up these days.

Despite his awful condition, he'd become forced to at least eat and sleep. If he didn't eat, then they'd force it down him, and if he didn't sleep, they'd knock him unconscious so that he did. It had gotten so bad that Kiku had started to lie about even ridiculous things like that, purely out of fear. He'd begun to lie so much that it showed, and that scared him even more. They'd know. They'd know he'd lied when they noticed how weak and skinny he'd become. When they noticed how he struggled to stand on his own two feet and struggled to process even simple mathematics. They would know - and what would they do then? They'd hurt him again.

Then, of course he'd been forced to be a real man. Or at least, that's what they told him, when they forced him into hurting and killing people. He couldn't get it out of his head. The fear in their eyes when they knew he was going to end their lives.   
It was a horrifying image he'd never forget and Kiku's stomach churned and flipped and he so badly wanted to vomit, but he'd lied about eating again and there was nothing in his body that he could bring up if he tried to.   
He wished he could've been stronger. He wished he could've defied them and told them what he thought but he was so, so terrified of the torture himself that he'd done as they said and hurt others in the same way. That, he knew, was worse. That was a worse thing to do than just take it himself.   
That made him a horrible, evil person. That made him a villain, a bad guy who must be defeated. Kiku didn't want to be a bad guy. He didn't want to hurt people, but after five years of being repeatedly forced into it, he didn't even know if he.. cared.. anymore. He wished he could die.

On top of it all, was the nightmare of a few weeks ago.   
When he'd been placed in that alleyway, he hadn't expected a single person to come by him.   
"If someone does happen to come by though," they'd told him, "then force them forward. If you do that, we'll be able to capture them easily."   
Kiku would have done as they'd said, if it was anyone else, but..  
Of all people, he hadn't expected to meet Alfred in that alleyway.  
It had hurt. It had hurt him so badly, to do what he did.   
Every single nerve and cell in his body had screamed for him to take that hug, for him to be close to Alfred for just those few seconds.   
Kiku had known he couldn't let it happen, though.   
He knew, that if Alfred stayed there for too long, they'd catch up and they'd capture him, and Kiku would never, ever forgive himself if he let anyone hurt Alfred.  
That's why he had to protect him in the way that he did.   
That's why he had to yell, and shove, and scare Alfred enough to make him turn back. That way, Kiku knew that Alfred would be safe.  
That's why he had to get Alfred off of his trail immediately. Kiku had to, in those seconds, make sure that Alfred wouldn't come back for him.   
That's why he told him what he did.

Kiku hated himself for that. He'd lied, like always, and to Alfred of all people. He'd hurt Alfred, he'd probably broken his heart and for that, Kiku hated himself. He wondered if Alfred would ever forgive him. Did Alfred hate him now?

Probably. Kiku would hate himself right now, in fact, he did, so why wouldn't anyone else?

Still, he would rather Alfred hate him than be hurt in worse ways right now.

That's when Kiku got the idea. That's when he had a thought - a thought he'd had for a while but had been pushing and pushing away, best he could because he knew it would get him hurt.  
If it was for Alfred, Kiku didn't mind getting hurt anymore.  
He scrambled to his feet. He had to do this. If there was anything, anything at all that he could do, it was this. He had to.  
He practically skidded to the other end of the room. Anything. Anything at all would do.   
The back of this useless sheet, and a bit of ink that was practically dried up. It'd do.

He had to write a letter to Alfred.

Kiku's hand shook, leaning against the wall for support. Was he really going to do it? It's just that he was-

Kiku bit the inside of his cheek. He'd had enough of being scared. He took a deep breath, and decided he was going to write it all. Everything that he felt.

_December 31st,1944_

_Mr A. Jones,_

_I'm not sure where to begin, I'm afraid._   
_I suppose I should start off by informing you that I told you the biggest lie that I've ever told anyone._   
_I regret it, I do, and I'm sure you are very hurt._   
_But, Mr Jones, if I had not told you that lie, then you would have been captured and tortured. I would never be able to forgive myself had I let that happen. So my lie, for once, was necessary._

_I'm sorry I've been unable to write to you for years. I was found out, you see. My crewmates managed to discover our letters to each other, and they did not take it well. Even now, you may be able to tell that my hand is shaking from the ridiculous state of my writing. It's rather shameful, I know._

_Even sending this letter is a risk. If I am caught, who knows what they will do to me. I'm terrified, Mr Jones, I truly am, but that will not stop me today. I feel as if I must send this letter to you. I must do one thing that is right._

_Mr Alfred Jones, I'm so very sorry. I have been an awful person. It's alright if you hate me. It's alright if you'd like to burn this letter the moment you get it. Please do not feel any pity for me as I surely do not deserve it. I must also beg you not to write back to me, Alfred. Please, just don't._

_Mr Alfred Jones, I suppose now I'm just trying to divert from the point of this letter. The reason I'm writing._

_I still love you, Alfred._

_Signed,_   
_K. Honda._

And now for the most difficult part. Kiku had already got a plan. It was a stupid plan, and everyone would know what he was up to if he did it, but it was going to be the only way. He had to get this letter to Antonio's men somehow, and he had to do it right this moment.

So he ran.

He ran, with the letter in his hand, as fast as his legs would take him. He used all his energy, the last bit of life he had in him, and he sprinted all the way. Past his crew, past his higher ups, and gone. He knew they'd come after him.   
He didn't care.

He ran for miles until he reached the little hut where Antonio or his men would hang. It was the wrong time of year for Antonio himself to be here, but his men would take the letter.   
Kiku practically burst through the door and slammed the letter on the desk, causing the man on the other side to give him a quick glance.   
"Please.." Kiku panted, "get this to the address on the front as soon as possible."  
The man just stared at him, so Kiku dug in his pocket and pulled out a rather large stack of money.   
"Please," he begged, "this is everything I have. I just need you to send this letter."   
"Well, money like that says a lot.." the man nodded, taking it and shoving it in his own pocket. "So I'll make this letter top priority for you."   
"Thank you. I have to go." Kiku smiled weakly, before he turned to leave.

He strolled back, and at the gates of the base, was met with just what he'd expected.   
A lot of yelling.  
He couldn't explain where he'd been or why, but the captain practically knew.   
They grabbed him, dragged him back as he yelled and struggled. He knew what was going to happen to him.

"I still love you, Alfred!" He screamed through his tears, even though nobody could understand him. "I still love you!"


	10. I will save you.

"Alfred!" Yelled Pete, his teammate, from behind the door. "Got a delivery for ya."  
Alfred groaned, getting up from his desk and opening the door.  
"Old man Arthur again, seriously? I jus' got mail from him yesterday."   
Pete shrugged.  
"I dunno man, it's not like I read 'em. I jus' hand 'em out."  
He passed Alfred an envelope, and Alfred took it without really looking at it.  
"Thanks man." Said Alfred. "You wanna go and have some beer later, or somethin'?"  
Pete laughed at him.  
"That ain't like you, drinkin', but sure."  
Alfred chuckled and closed the door as Pete walked away.

The past four months hadn't been too bad. Alfred had been doing pretty well - very well in fact. His men had been winning more and more fights, and talk of the end was beginning to be rumoured around. He'd become closer to Arthur again, and Francis for that matter, and it felt good to have his family back a little. Even Matthew had come to see him once or twice, and that was always a lot of fun, or usually was, when Matthew and he were both in a good mood.   
Alfred felt good. He felt confident.  
More than anything, Alfred felt like he was getting on top of things now. He was coping better.   
Kiku, by the way, was no longer a concern of his. Alfred didn't care anymore.   
Kiku had told him how he really felt, and at first, it had destroyed Alfred inside, but he'd had more support through it than he'd realised he ever had. His family had understood, and they hadn't been mad at him for any of it, and now, he just didn't care.

At least, that's what Alfred told himself. He mostly didn't care at all, but there was a little pang in his chest whenever he opened that one drawer, so he had a tendency to stay away from it.

He dropped the letter on the desk, a little careless about it. Artie, or whoever it was, could wait. He had some stuff to do. Not really.. important stuff.. just stuff. Like drinking, for example, and eating food he didn't really need.   
Since he was already high up, and had been promoted quite a few times, he could sometimes get away with it.   
With that, he took himself out of the room to find his friends, who would already be waiting around. It didn't take that long to find them, and so since they'd gotten this day pretty much free, the group headed to a small bar.

It was quite a few miles away from where they were staying, but the men rather liked this small and run down place. It was old, and not many people came, but it just made for a good little spot.   
Every so often, they'd come and maybe spend an hour here. It was a treat - a pretty big treat, since they rarely got much time to just have fun.   
Alfred didn't get drunk all that easily, unlike his older brother. More than that though, it was just that Alfred knew where to quit, and he could still have fun just being with his friends.   
"Cheers!" The fifteen of them yelled together, meeting their glasses in the middle.   
Before long, the usuals were already drunk, but Alfred and a few others simply knew better.   
They could always laugh enough without the alcohol, if they really tried.

Alfred decided to try at playing one of his favourite games.   
When they'd come here the last few times, Alfred had tried to flirt with one of the women who worked at the bar. She was very pretty, to say the least, and she had quite the attitude.. and Alfred liked that. Most of the time, she'd playfully make some mean remark about him, and blatantly reject him, but when Alfred tried it today, something was different.   
"Well well, you sure are persistent, aren't ya?" She said, raising an eyebrow as she tapped on the bar where he sat.  
"What can I say ma'am? You're very pretty."   
She tutted at him, shaking her head.   
"You're.. not so awful looking yourself, sir. You don't already have a lady?"  
Alfred half smiled, and shrugged casually, taking a sip of his drink.  
"Not anymore miss."  
The lady sighed, getting a cloth to wipe the surface as she worked.   
"I understand a lil.." She told Alfred, "I was with a man I loved very much, up until a couple of weeks ago."  
"I'm very sorry about that." Replied Alfred.   
"Still.." she continued, "A man like yourself is rather dashing, I must say."  
Alfred grinned, pushing his hair back slightly. He hadn't actually expected this in the slightest.   
"You think?"

\---

On the way back, the group was rowdy. A few of them were still very drunk, which was mostly why, but Alfred wasn't. He'd barely had anything to drink apart from that one glass, and had just enjoyed his time with other people instead. He quickly became the focus of the attention in the group when one of his friends shouted out about his new 'lady friend'.   
"She ain't my lady friend!" Alfred laughed, giving the man who'd said it a knock on the shoulder.   
"Saw ya kiss 'er, Al! We all did!"   
The group erupted in laughter.   
"Yeah well, it was a one off. I didn't expect her to actually, y'know."  
They all laughed again, teasing Alfred mercilessly. It didn't really bother Alfred; something else was on his mind.

That woman.. of course, she was beautiful, but..  
Alfred didn't feel anything for her. Not really, nothing more than a little crush.   
He didn't feel love, not like he had before.  
And.. sure.. she was beautiful, but Alfred was troubled by her beauty. Her dark hair and her dark eyes, and her small height and the clever and quick witted way she spoke...   
Alfred didn't love her.  
He only loved the parts of her that were reminiscent of Kiku, and he hadn't even realised until now.  
But he couldn't - he didn't.  
That couldn't be right.  
Alfred didn't love Kiku anymore. He didn't - he kept telling himself that, so it must be true. Kiku Honda had told him to move on, to leave and never come back - so Alfred couldn't possibly love him anymore.   
Alfred couldn't be trying to replace him, or find him in someone else, it just wasn't possible, because he told himself over and over and over every second of every day that he didn't love Kiku.  
He didn't love that slender figure or that gentle manner or that kind heart or that godforsaken smile.   
That fucking godforsaken smile.

"Hey 'Fred lighten up will ya?" Someone called as they elbowed him.  
Alfred snapped out of it - he hadn't even realised he'd drifted off like that.  
"Ain't like ya buddy!"   
Alfred started laughing.  
"Yeah, I know! Maybe that beer got to me a lil or somethin'!"  
Or maybe something else got to me, he thought.   
The others laughed and carried on, and turned their playful teasing to another member of the group. Alfred cheekily joined in this time.  
It was just to do anything, really. Anything but think about him.

\---

"Thanks guys! See ya!" He called, turning down his corridor.   
The walk back had somehow felt longer than the walk there. Maybe because Alfred had felt so torn up and guilty the entire time - and to think he woke up confident.  
It was like that a lot these days. He would wake up feeling as if he could take on anything, and then one thing would set him off and he'd be achy and dull inside.   
Alfred always, always hurt a lot on the inside, but it was really just his nature to stay happy and jokey on the outside. That was the Alfred that everyone knew.

The envelope on the desk caught his eye when he got in the room. He'd forgotten about that.   
He dropped his jacket on the little makeshift bed, and grabbed the envelope before flopping down onto the bed himself.   
He turned it around to glance at the writing on the front-  
Alfred's heart stopped.

He would know that handwriting anywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. That was the beautiful, finely printed black ink handwriting of Kiku Honda - except it was just slightly off. The way it was shaky and blotchy confused Alfred. Kiku never wrote like that. He'd seen Kiku write by hand before, and the man would often start over until he got the writing perfect. This wasn't like him.   
Alfred swallowed hard, the unopened envelope quivering in his hands. He couldn't quite process it.   
He couldn't process it at all.

After some staring, he sat bolt upright and hurried to open the envelope. He had to know what the hell this was. Some cruel joke? Some sort of hoax? What was it? His mind must have been making things up because it couldn't have been Kiku, not really, it couldn't - but when Alfred pulled out the paper, the handwriting once again, did not lie.   
Alfred's hands shook tremendously. His entire body shook.  
He read it.   
In fact, he'd only finished the first short paragraph when tears began to fall down his cheeks.  
This couldn't be real.  
Arthur had been right..? Kiku had protected him. That's what it was - that's what the whole thing was. That day, Kiku had saved him. Alfred couldn't stop the tears once they'd started. He'd gotten so angry, so.. out of control as of late, and had completely discarded Kiku.

He read on, and finished the second part, and the third. He had to stop again to process what he'd read.   
He sat there, with his mouth open and his eyes wide. He didn't believe it, but he did, because why the hell would Kiku lie? Not on this scale.   
"Oh Jesus, oh fuck-" Said Alfred out loud, before he hushed his voice. "What the hell did they do to you..?"  
He went quiet, before the tears came back and he started to cry again.  
"What did they do to you?" He asked at the letter, even though he knew Kiku couldn't hear him. "What the hell did they..?"

Alfred looked away from the letter and got his mind back together quickly. There was one last bit to read. Just a few more sentences before he could lay down and wonder what the hell to make of this.  
"I don't hate you, I don't hate you.." he repeated over and over, the little droplets of love and loss beginning to hit the paper now.

Alfred gently lay the paper down, and cried.  
He sobbed for Kiku, for what he'd been through. Suddenly, Alfred knew that there was more to it all than he'd realised.   
He regretted a lot of things instantly.

So of course, now, he'd made up his mind. Alfred had one hundred percent made up his mind. He'd decided.  
No matter what came in his way, blocked his path, no matter what happened, Alfred made a promise to himself.  
That day, in front of the setting sun, whilst his heart had shattered to pieces, Kiku Honda had saved Alfred Jones.   
He had saved him from the pain and the trauma and the fear.   
Alfred had decided that now he owed it.   
He was going to save Kiku Honda.

\---

Under the light of a small candle, Alfred read the letter for somewhere over the 10th time that day.

"I still love you, too." He whispered.


	11. Bright and cheery.

Alfred was woken bright and early by a lot of yelling and banging.  
Not the usual yelling and banging, the sound of people dying, but rather..  
What seemed like.. cheerfulness?  
There was a sharp knock on his door and he rolled out of bed to get it, grabbing his glasses on the way. He opened the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes.  
"Alfred! Alfred look!" Cried one of his men, shoving a newspaper in his face.  
Alfred blinked, taking it and yawning again. After reading the headline, he seemed to stare for a second. Alfred looked at his colleague, then at the paper again, then at his colleague again.  
"It's over, Alfred!" The man cheered, The war is over!"  
Alfred was quiet, before he began to smile.  
"It's over!" He cheered. "It's over, isn't it?!"  
Alfred and his friend darted out of the room and to where the rest of the soldiers were celebrating.  
"We can go home!" They cried. "We'll see our wives again! Our children!"  
The atmosphere was almost hysterical in a positive way. People didn't know what to believe. Many of the soldiers couldn't figure out if they were dreaming, or if it really was over. They were the people who had been through so much - who had spilled their own blood and lost their friends and loved ones. They were the men who had kept fighting through the hardships and they'd won - they'd done it. Come out on top, they had.  
"I'm going to go home, Al!" Exclaimed Pete, who came over to give the man a hug. "I ain't seen my wife in so long.. I miss her! What're you gonna do, Al?"  
Alfred shook his head.  
"I'm still makin' up my mind, buddy. I got an idea or two, but I jus' woke up. This is all still news to me."  
"Whatever ya decide on, Alfred, good luck. You've been a real good man." Said Pete, patting him on the back in a friendly manner.  
"You too." Alfred replied, grinning. "You go and see your wife. You deserve it."

Alfred had similar conversations with many. They were all so happy to go home, so happy for it to be over.  
Alfred was happy too. He was proud of himself and his friends and.. family. He was proud of how they'd held on. Together they'd been the Allied Forces and that, to Alfred, had been his family. He was proud of them for fighting through, and he was thankful for them for being so kind to him in his darkest hours. He'd never forget that phone call with Arthur - how he'd almost.. gotten closer with his older brother again through his sheer tolerance and understanding. He'd not always been like that to Alfred, but the simple fact that he was trying when it mattered most to Alfred was enough. That went for Francis, and Yao, and Ivan, and even Matthew, too. They'd been something else.  
He was happy, and he couldn't wait to see them in a normal atmosphere - to just be together as friends rather than soldiers for the first time in years.  
Maybe he'd take them all a little gift or something. Alfred thought about it. Arthur was the easiest - he could just buy him some tea. For Francis, maybe some expensive wine, and for Ivan.. he'd be rather easy too. A bunch of sunflowers and.. probably more alcohol would do the trick. Yao was peculiar, but giving him something cute would work a charm - maybe a teddy bear or something. Matthew on the other hand.. could have the prize that was the companionship of Alfred's eternal brotherly love... Yeah, that'd fine for Mattie.

So of course Alfred was happy. He really was, but now there was one thing that lingered.  
Now that it was over, he could see Kiku.  
He didn't have a whereabouts for Kiku, other than the address scribbled out on the most recent letter, but if Alfred could make it out, then.. hopefully..  
He'd check once this celebration was over. For now, he wanted to be happy.

\---

Alfred's Japanese was rusty to say the very least. Especially when, the address had been very helpfully scribbled over and quickly replaced with the new one.  
He couldn't blame Kiku, after all it was obvious that the poor man was frightened when he wrote this letter.  
Over nine months ago.  
However, Alfred was prepared to try his best, and after getting what seemed like a reasonable address, his next call was going to be to one of his own fellow men.

"You wouldn't know of an ex-army base at this address, would you?" Alfred spoke nervously over the phone.  
The questions of course came flooding - why would you want anything to do with them? We just won the war! Be happy for your country!  
Alfred was persistent.  
"I just need to know if I have the right address or not, sir." He said.  
The man on the other end laughed.  
"Well.. Alfred, was it? Don't know if this is a good thing or a bad one, but there certainly was a base there."  
Alfred hesitated.  
"Sorry if I misheard, sir, but there.. was.. a base?"  
"Yeah, there 'was'. That place was completely destroyed only a couple of weeks ago. Blown to smithereens. Not a single survivor, apparently."  
Alfred went quiet. Had he been drinking something, he'd have probably choked on it. That's the sort of reaction he had.  
"Not a single survivor?"  
"Not one."  
"That can't be right, sir."  
The man laughed.  
"How can it not be right? The place was burned so badly that none of them could have possibly survived."  
"Thank you for your help, sir," said Alfred, getting ready to put the phone down, "I have to go."

Alfred let himself have a second, tapping his fingers on the table.  
There had to be one. There had to be one survivor - it wasn't possible, unless... Alfred's stomach churned. He picked up the phone for a second time, dialling a different number.

"Yes, I.. I need to get to Japan. Right now. Now, I said. I don't care how much it'll cost. I don't care if it's unsafe, either, sir. I need to be there. Make sure there's transport for me, I'll be to you by the end of today."  
Alfred put the phone down, and sighed. That was it. Now he truly had made up his mind. He would see to his friends, his family, once he got back here..  
Right now, he needed to know. He needed to pack his bags and go.  
If there were thought to be absolutely no survivors.. then what had happened to Kiku?  
He had to know.

\---

The flight felt long. It was long, actually, but it just felt.. extensive.  
Alfred had one thing on his mind now and one thing only. Kiku had to be okay. He couldn't not be okay. Alfred would never forgive himself if he wasn't okay.

He landed, and got on his way. He wasn't far from the base at all, and so he walked.

The place was run down. There weren't many people around at all, and it was nothing less than eerie. This village was simply quiet - or was it that the people were.. scared? It could be..  
Alfred felt a little ill, and shook that off quickly.  
He'd come to the woods soon, if he was right about where he was going, and then he'd get to the base.

The woods were nice. Exotic flowers grew here that Alfred had seen once or twice before, but barely remembered.  
A little fox ran past him, almost tripping him over. Alfred watched as the fox seemed to look around frantically, and carefully knelt down, as slowly and as quietly as he could.  
The little fox eyed him warily. It was afraid of him of course, but it watched to see what he would do.  
"Here." Alfred said gently, breaking a bit of sandwich out of his bag. He offered it out to the fox, staying as still as he could. "You can have that, if you're hungry."  
The fox crept up, watching him at all times, and sniffed at him carefully. It was smart. It was calculating. It looked him up and down as if it was judging whether his offering was safe or not, but quickly, it took the bit of bread and ham, and scampered off happily into the bushes.  
Alfred stood up and slung his bag back over his shoulder, smiling a little.  
Somehow, that little fox reminded him of someone else.

Alfred wasn't smiling anymore when he reached the base.  
He didn't even know what to do, or say.  
When that captain had told him that the base was gone, Alfred had hoped he was wrong, or exaggerating.

There was barely anything here. Alfred had remembered this place from that day. All those buildings he'd ran through - gone. They were nothing but black ash on the floor. Alfred almost puked.  
This was not what he'd wanted to happen. What was he supposed to do now? He'd gotten so caught up in himself that he hadn't even planned for the worst.

"I'm sorry but-" Said someone in Japanese. Alfred turned around and was met with a rather small old lady. She avoided his gaze. She seemed very wary of him.  
"Mr.. were you looking for something..?" She hesitantly asked.  
Alfred panicked a little. He hadn't spoken Japanese in years. He had to try.  
"Y-yes-" He replied. "Here- there was-"  
"A military base, yes." Said the old lady.  
Alfred nodded.  
"D-did any people live?" Asked Alfred best he could.  
"I'm not sure." She told him. "I know that a lot of the men were taken to different nearby hospitals, but I don't know if any of them survived from there."  
Alfred nodded slowly.  
"Y-yes! I understand!" He exclaimed. Alfred was quiet for a minute. "Excuse me.. are you the only person in this village?"  
The old lady laughed a little. She had a warm laugh.  
"No," she told him. "But I was the only one who saw how gentle you were to that fox, and I decided that you couldn't possibly be a bad person."  
Alfred barely understood again, but he nodded. It sounded good. It sounded like she had said something nice.  
The lady pointed in three directions.  
"That's where the hospitals are." She smiled.  
Alfred beamed, and bowed to her best he could without really understanding much about it.  
"Thank you!" He called.  
The old lady gave a warm expression. "No, no, don't thank me."

===

The first hospital. These hospitals almost seemed makeshift, as if they'd been built up quickly through the war and had been used primarily for soldiers. That was probably the case.  
The lady at the little table looked a little alarmed when Alfred walked in. She frowned as he came over, but listened when he spoke. Alfred assumed that she hadn't expected him to be able to speak minimal Japanese.  
He asked her if she knew of a 'Honda', but she shook her head. Alfred thanked her for her time at least.

The second hospital brought no luck either. The nurse at that hospital told Alfred that they did have a Honda a while back, but the man had died rather quickly. Wrong man, Alfred thought. He thanked her for her time, too.

The last hospital was possibly the most run down. It was practically a big wooden shack, by the looks of things. When Alfred went up to the desk, the nurse didn't seem fazed by either him or his question. Instead, she put on a tiny smile.  
"You're not Japanese, I assume?"  
She said it in English, and Alfred was a little taken aback. He shook his head.  
"No, Miss. I'm American."  
"Well, Honda is a very popular name." She paused and smiled again. "There are currently three men with that name here. Do you have a given name?"  
"Kiku- it's Kiku Honda."  
Her smile faded, and the nurse bit her lip.  
"Ah.. that Honda."  
Alfred looked at her quizzically. What did that mean? Did she know him? Was he there? Was he alright? Was he even still..?  
The nurse got up, and began walking down a corridor, beckoning for Alfred to follow.  
"Everyone else died." She said quietly, as he followed her down what seemed an endless corridor. "Within days, they all just died. Everyone else brought from that base, that is. I'm not sure how he's still alive."  
Alfred swallowed hard.  
"It's this room." Said the nurse, stopping at the door. "The rest of the room is empty, as.. of course, those men did not make it."  
Alfred was eager to get in there. He just wanted to see Kiku.

He couldn't wait to see Kiku's face when he saw the American. Would he look surprised? Happy? Both? Would he be emotional, or would he be calm and tell the story through his dark and deep eyes alone? He couldn't wait to tell him 'I love you' in person. Alfred's heart thudded with excitement-

"Sir." Said the nurse quietly. "I must tell you.. he has.. been in a certain state since he got here. It's not looking too good, sir."  
There was silence, before Alfred uttered a tiny 'what?'.  
"I'm afraid.. We're afraid that he may not wake up, sir."  
Alfred just stood there. What? What did she mean?  
"He has been unconscious and unresponsive since he got here, sir. I'm sorry to have to tell you, but we think that he is a slowly dying man."  
Alfred was quiet. Very quiet.  
Had.. had he done this? Was it his fault?  
The nurse smiled softly and rather sadly.  
"Is he your friend, sir? You must have travelled a long way to see him."  
"He's.." Alfred paused. "We were lovers, before the war. So.. I wanted to see him again."  
She appeared a little surprised, but she simply nodded with no judgement.  
"I give you my sincerest best of luck, sir. It would be a miracle if he were to wake up."  
"Thank you."

With that, she gently opened the door, and let Alfred in.

Alfred could have cried.  
He walked shakily to the very end of the room - the very corner. All the other beds had been emptied. There was a window next to this bed, and the sunlight shone through in a bittersweet attempt to be cheery.  
Kiku's body was lifeless.  
If it weren't for the steady rising and falling of his chest, Alfred would've said he was already dead.  
There wasn't a movement in his body other than his breathing, and he looked a mess. There were wounds all over him, and though they were bandaged up neatly and perfectly, through one or two, small bloodstains could still be seen. The bandages were mostly on his abdomen, though there were some visible on his arms, and one on his forehead, underneath his bangs. His body was tiny - his frame ridiculously skinny. It looked like he hadn't eaten for.. weeks. Maybe longer. His black hair was tangled, with no shine in the light, and his skin was pale and discoloured. Alfred felt awful.

Slowly and shakily, he shuffled to the side of the bed, sitting down on a little wooden stool, and reached for one of Kiku's hands.  
He took Kiku's small, frail hand in his own two, and clasped it between them, holding it tightly.  
Kiku's hand was practically cold.  
Carefully, as if he was handling something precious and fragile, Alfred leaned down to softly kiss the top of Kiku's hand.

"Hey.." He said, his voice wavering. "Hey Kiku, it's me, I'm here now. It's Alfred."  
He waited a few seconds, for a response that never came. Alfred could feel the tears in his eyes already.  
"I know I tease you all the time, but you can quit it now, you know.. You're actually starting to worry me, you know.."  
Alfred waited again. Everything hurt. Every nerve in his body hurt. He just wanted Kiku to be alright - he just needed Kiku to be alright. He needed Kiku to wake up right now and laugh at him for falling for it. For letting the man who never ever teased trick him like that.  
Hot tears started to roll down Alfred's face, as his body began to quiver and his throat tightened.  
"C'mon Kiku. You can wake up now, alright? I'm here now."  
Alfred choked back a sob.  
"It's okay if you don't really wanna talk. J-just show me you're in there, okay? Show me you're not gone, Kiku."  
He watched Kiku's face, still yearning for a response that deep down he knew wasn't coming.  
"Wake up, Kiku." Alfred cried, his body shaking hard and his sobs audible when he wasn't talking. He shuffled a little and leaned over, putting his face next to Kiku's so that their foreheads touched. "Please wake up. You have to wake up now, Kiku. I'm here, see?"  
Alfred moved a hand to take Kiku's other hand, so that he could hold both. Alfred cried hard. Everything hurt. Everything ached and strained and hurt. This was almost worse than being separated.   
"I need you to wake up, okay? I need you. I love you, Kiku. I love you so much, so you have to come back to me, alright?"

But of course, there was no response.


	12. Once More, My Love.

Every day.  
Alfred came to visit every single day. The heartbroken American would come to the hospital every single day of the week, and he'd sit, absolutely all day, talking to Kiku.   
It didn't matter that Kiku didn't.. or couldn't.. respond. Alfred just thought it was important that he always be there incase Kiku suddenly woke up.   
The day never seemed to come.

He'd been staying at a tiny run down inn nearby, paying for each night on the go. He didn't really care if it was a lot of money. He just..

Alfred brought different things for Kiku a lot of the time. Every day, he would at least bring plenty of water, some little terry-cloth towels, and a brush. He'd sit and gently as he could, brush Kiku's hair. He knew that Kiku would absolutely hate it if Alfred let him get a mess, so Alfred would take care of him best he could.   
He'd carefully pass the comb through Kiku's onyx hair, softening it and making sure it kept neat and in shape each day. It definitely looked a lot better now than when Alfred first got here - but he couldn't blame the nurses for that. They were incredibly busy, and someone's appearance was the least of their hardworking souls concern.

Alfred was thankful for the nurses. Especially the nurse who he'd first met - the lady that spoke English. She was very kind and understanding, and never ever turned Alfred away even when he wanted to visit at the most ridiculous of times. As thanks for that, Alfred often bought her and the other nurses gifts. Not much, but they always appreciated a new book to read or some free lunch to enjoy.

Alfred kept in touch with Arthur and Francis, too, and he'd make phone calls with them when he was at the inn. He just wanted them to know how things were, and that he was alright, even if that was a lie.  
Alfred wasn't alright.  
He was anxious - hopeful too, but mostly anxious. What if Kiku never ever woke up? What would he do? Would he have to leave one day?   
What if Kiku actually was dying..? What if he was, and it was Alfred's fault...?  
His head spun and his heart hurt and he wasn't sure what was going on anymore.  
Time had become.. runny.. fluid. It just melted into itself. Alfred couldn't distinguish an hour from a day or a day from a week anymore. Everything was moving too fast, and all he did was visit Kiku, and visit Kiku, and visit Kiku.  
He didn't know what was for the best. He'd do anything for Kiku now - he'd do it all. It's just that... He didn't know exactly what to do.  
Alfred most certainly was not okay, but he'd tell everyone that he was. He didn't want to spoil the post-war happiness.

"Alfred.." Said Arthur over the telephone one day. "Alfred, I really need to talk to you."  
"What's the matter, old man?" Asked Alfred, leaning on the wall where the telephone usually hung.   
"Alfred, dear.. I know it's a touchy subject, but how is Kiku doing?"  
Alfred hesitated.  
"He ain't awake yet, if that's what you mean. He'll be okay though, he'll wake up soon, I'm sure of it." He answered, forcing himself to sound happy.  
Arthur sighed on the other end of the phone.  
"That's what you said almost six months ago, Alfred."   
There was silence. Sheer silence. Then, Alfred started laughing.  
"You're a mean one, Artie, it ain't been that long!"  
"Alfred! It's been almost six months. You've been away almost half of a year."  
"Quit makin' stuff up-"  
"I bloody wish I was making it up-" Arthur stopped. "Listen, poppet.. I.. I think it's time you should go home."   
The line was quiet again. For a long time.  
"Alfred..? Are you listening? Your country needs you. You have to go home soon, whether you like it or not."  
"I'll go home when he wakes up and he's okay."  
On the other end, Alfred listened as Arthur took in a deep breath.  
"Alfred, darling.. I don't know how to word it-"  
"Word what, Arthur?"  
"I don't think he's.. going.. to wake up, Alfred."  
Alfred went silent yet again.   
"Are you listening to me, America? The damage is extremely severe, he might not-"  
Alfred put the phone down.   
Don't 'America' me, he thought.   
Deep, deep down, Alfred truly feared Arthur's words. That was what he had been fearing since the start - didn't Arthur realise that? Surely, Arthur knew that somewhere in there, Alfred was feeling the same - but maybe that's why he said it.

Alfred decided not to worry about it. It was early morning, and today, like always, he was going to go to the hospital. He gave his hair a quick ruffle, and put everything he needed for the day into his bag. He said goodbye to the innkeeper and walked the mile or so that it was to the hospital.  
The early spring air was fresh. Cool, mild, and fresh in his lungs. It smelled nice.   
On the way there, he passed a small park. The place was but a small little field, but there were benches, and flowers. Alfred passed it every day, but today, it was a little different.  
The cherry blossom tree had bloomed. It'd had tiny, pale pink buds for a while now, but they'd finally opened.   
Alfred stopped in the street to admire it. Maybe it was a good sign? Maybe it meant something, he thought.   
There were hundreds of glorious powder pink flowers, each one a separate intricate creation of mother nature. They were nothing less than beautiful, under the springtime sun.   
That, at least, put a little smile on Alfred's face.

When he got to the hospital, he was led to the room as usual, and as always, Kiku was.. the same. Alfred smiled at the nurse and wandered over to the bed in the corner where Kiku lay.   
"Good morning, beautiful." He said softly, holding Kiku's hand as he sat down on the rickety old stool.   
Alfred reached into his bag for the comb, so that he could carefully brush Kiku's hair.   
"You know," he told him as he worked, "The cherry blossoms have bloomed already. I thought you might want to know, since they're special to you and all. I haven't seen one in years, but they're really really pretty, aren't they?"  
Alfred was quiet for a little while, putting the stuff away.  
"Hey, you know what?" He asked. "Something I didn't realise is how long I've been here! Six months! Can you believe that, keeks? Six!"  
Alfred waited a few seconds.  
"I know, it's crazy, right? I actually.. I got a phone call this mornin'. I gotta go home soon, they're tellin' me. So.. you gotta wake up soon, alright? Cause I ain't leavin' you, so.."  
The flowers at the bedside were beginning to wilt slightly, so Alfred made a mental note to bring some fresh ones soon. He reached out, and gently stroked Kiku's cheek. His skin still hadn't regained any of it's old colour, and that worried Alfred. At the very least however, Kiku's wounds were healing well on their own. That was.. the only thing Alfred really had to cling on to. At least his body was healing. Alfred had a thought.  
"You know, Kiku? I haven't brought a book in a while, have I..? Maybe I'll bring one tomorrow. I'll read it to you!"   
That would be nice, he decided. He wasn't quite sure what book, yet, but he'd definitely bring one.   
It was getting dark outside. He'd been here all day again.  
"Well.. I should probably get going now.." Alfred said, squeezing Kiku's motionless hand. "I'll come back tomorrow though, I promise."   
With that, he got up and slung his bad over his shoulder as usual.   
He leaned down, and as gently as he could, kissed the top of Kiku's forehead, stroking the side of his face with one thumb.   
"I love you." He quietly told him.

With that, he got up and turned to leave. Outside the door, the nurse was waiting for him.  
"Mr Jones, could I have a short word?" She asked.  
"O-of course, Miss." He replied, putting his hands in his pockets.   
The nurse looked around as if she was thinking a little, and then put her hands together in front of her. She didn't quite make eye contact with Alfred.  
"Sir.. it's just that.. it's been a very long time. Are you sure you still wish to come in every day?" She asked quietly.  
"Of course! Why wouldn't I?" Alfred exclaimed, careful not to sound angry with her, but rather just surprised. He didn't want to scare her or anything.  
"Well, I was discussing Mr Honda's condition with my colleagues last night. He's showing no signs of waking up anytime soon, Mr Jones. He may never do so."   
Alfred was soundless, before he finally thought of something to say.  
"Someone else told me the same thing this morning, but Miss, I've already decided that I will stay until he does. I know that he'll wake up.. so.."  
The nurse smiled sadly, nodding at him.  
"I admire that very much. If only we could all be as full of hope and belief as you are, Mr Jones."

In bed that night, Alfred thought about what had been said that day. That was twice in one day that someone had told him Kiku wasn't going to wake up. One of them a qualified nurse and the other a nation just like both Kiku and himself. They were both credible people on the matter.   
Alfred didn't even really want to think about it, but he found that he couldn't think about anything else. Kiku was hurt and that was all that mattered. Alfred just wanted him to be okay.  
Reaching into his jacket, Alfred pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper.   
The last letter that Kiku had send to him.   
It was tatty now; the thing was well over a year old. Alfred held it in both hands and read every word. He wished he could talk to Kiku. He wished that he could reassure Kiku and tell him that it was all okay now and be able to know that Kiku had heard him.   
"I'm sorry I haven't been able to save you." Alfred told the letter. "You saved me, so.. It's kind of pathetic of me to fail like this."  
Alfred kissed the top of the sheet.   
"But I won't stop trying until I do."

The next day, Alfred packed a book in his bag like he'd promised. On the way, he also stopped to get some flowers.   
These ones were chrysanthemums. Some were yellow, some were purple, some were red, some white, and finally, pink. It was large amount to say the least.  
This time, Alfred hadn't simply gone for a bouquet which would die and have to be replaced. No, these flowers were in a pot. It was a rather big one, and Alfred was sure that the poor nurses would be mortified, but he didn't see the issue, since he'd look after it himself. Since Kiku's name translated to chrysanthemum, something that Kiku had told Alfred years ago, Alfred thought that they would make fitting flowers for the bedside.   
Sure enough, when we walked into the hospital with them, the nurses shook their heads at him and tutted slightly, but they didn't exactly make any other attempt to stop him, so he carried them all the way.

He set the flowers down on the bedside table, in a good place near the sun, and gave them some water from the big flask he kept in his bag.   
"Good morning, my darling." Said Alfred. "I bought you all these flowers today.. you should really wake up and have a look at them. I picked this kind for you specifically, too. They're really beautiful, see? They ain't as beautiful as you, though."  
When Alfred finished messing with the flowers, he sat down and held Kiku's hand again.   
He told him everything that he could think of. Alfred never really ran out of stories. He'd tell Kiku practically anything: from the cute dog he'd petted that morning to the time when he was a toddler and Arthur had accidentally trodden on him.  
"Oh! Speaking of stories," Alfred continued, "I said I'd bring a book today, didn't I? I have one, so let me get it.."  
Alfred rummaged, and pulled out an old looking book best he could.  
"This is one of the books I brought with me. I hope you don't mind that it's all in English this time! It's a book of fairy tales.. see? I know it's quite childish, but I thought it might be happy to read!" He explained, holding up the thick book in front of Kiku as if he was going to look at it.  
"Hm.." he thought out loud, "I hope you don't mind me reading from where I left off.. I already read Rumpelstiltskin, and Cinderella. This one.."  
Alfred hesitated, then he laughed a little bit.  
"This one's called Little Brier Rose.." Alfred said. He waited a few seconds, before he begun to read; out loud, of course.

"... _She had no sooner touched the spindle when the magic curse was fulfilled, and she pricked herself in the finger. The instant that she felt the prick she fell onto a bed that was standing there, and she lay there in a deep sleep._.."   
Alfred glanced over at Kiku. Maybe this was the wrong story. Still, he'd keep going. He knew how much Kiku would hate an unfinished story.

".... _Many long, long years later, once again a prince came to the country. He heard an old man telling about the thorn hedge. It was said that there was a castle behind it, in which a beautiful princess named Little Brier-Rose had been asleep for a hundred years, and with her the king and the queen and all the royal attendants were sleeping_." Alfred continued. He himself was perfectly immersed in the story by now.  
He needed to know if the Princess Brier-Rose would wake up.

" _Finally he came to the tower and opened the door to the little room where Little Brier-Rose was sleeping. There she lay and was so beautiful that he could not take his eyes off her. He bent over and gave her a kiss. When he touched her with the kiss Little Brier-Rose opened her eyes, awoke, and looked at him kindly._ " Alfred read, before glancing over at Kiku.

_"...And then the prince's marriage to Little Brier-Rose was celebrated with great splendor, and they lived happily until they died."_

Alfred went really quiet, closing the book.  
"Hey, Kiku, don't you think that was a good story..?" He asked, eagerly awaiting a response. It never came.   
Alfred watched Kiku's chest rise and fall. He watched as his eyes remain shut and his black eyelashes frame those closed eyes like a perfect picture frame. He studied Kiku's high cheekbones and perfect face structure, his small nose and his soft lips. He gazed at his perfect midnight hair and how it lay spread out on the pillow.

Alfred got up from where he was sat, and inched just a little closer.   
"Don't get mad at me for this.." He told Kiku.  
Alfred bent down slowly, closing his eyes. With as little force and as tenderly as possible, he gave Kiku a kiss on the lips.   
He let it last a while, before he pulled away, slowly.   
No response.  
The American smiled painfully, his eyes welling up.  
"Come on, Kiku... That was.."  
Alfred whimpered, tears beginning to fall from his face again.  
"That was the part where you were supposed to wake up."

The next day when Alfred came, he didn't bring a book. He only brought one sometimes, since he thought reading the same things over and over might get boring to Kiku. So, as usual, he sat down and held Kiku's hand.   
"Good morning, my sweetheart." Alfred said. "It's getting pretty warm outside, you know. You'll have to come back soon so that you can feel the springtime sun too! It makes for a nice change after winter."  
Alfred was beginning to lose it. Hope, that was. He was beginning to lose hope.  
Part of him was slowly beginning to wonder if everyone else was right.  
That day, Alfred sang to Kiku. He sang a slow, sad love song that had been on the radio for a little while.   
When he finished singing, he cried.

Alfred began to wonder if he should go home soon. If it really, truly was a lost cause. Kiku was simply showing no signs of being in there. His body was alive, yes, but Kiku was... Unresponsive, just like the nurse had said. It was starting to look horribly possible that he would either stay in a deep sleep for all eternity.. or.. simply.. die.   
Alfred hadn't really witnessed a nation die. He didn't really want to. Especially not if it had to be his beloved Japan.

The next day when Alfred came, he was gloomy. The nurses noticed, and gave him a hug and a pat on the back. They pitied him, for they knew he was starting to see the truth. The kind nurse that had been by Alfred's side the whole time hated to see him so sad. She'd come to know him and become friends with him, and she wished there was something more that she could do. There wasn't. The nurses had done everything they could for Kiku, and everyone knew that.

Alfred came into the room, and started by brushing Kiku's hair and wiping down his face. He watered the flowers, before he sat and held Kiku's hand.  
"Good morning, my angel." Alfred said, softer than usual today. "Hey Kiku, you're not going to become a real angel, are you? I don't know what I'd do if I really, truly lost you, my love."  
Alfred kept talking, for hours and hours as usual.

"You know," he muttered, "watching you sleep all the time has been making me really tired, Keeks. I'm really, really tired too."   
Alfred watched Kiku, his sky blue eyes dull with the weariness.   
"You don't mind, if I just.."  
Alfred shuffled right up to Kiku, and laid his head down on Kiku's chest. He could hear his heartbeat, and he nestled longingly into the space between the bottom of Kiku's jaw and the top of his collarbone. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Really, really deeply.

Alfred's heart stopped. It felt like his heart stopped, but really, it had begun to pound when he felt the tiniest bit of movement.  
Alfred himself didn't dare move. When he felt a small hand on the back of his head his entire body tensed.  
"..Alfred..?"  
Alfred sat bolt upright without a word, his eyes wide, his breathing quick and his mouth open slightly.   
His eyes were met with a chocolate brown pair.   
"Alfred..?!" Kiku gasped, his own face as much in shock as Alfred's.   
" _Alfred??!_ " The Japanese man exclaimed, sitting up best he could.  
Alfred flung himself at him, his arms firmly around his entire body, cradling him like a child. Kiku moved his shaky arms to place his hands on Alfred's back. Alfred's entire body was shaking. He was crying.   
"Kiku... You're awake!" Alfred wept, "I thought, I truly thought you'd never.."  
Kiku was quiet a second, before he buried his face into Alfred's shoulder.   
"Is is really you?" He asked, his voice quiet. "Tell me you're real, Alfred. Tell me you're not just a dream--"  
Alfred hugged Kiku harder.  
"I'm here," He reassured him, stroking the back of his head with his quaking hand. "I promise I'm real. I'm here, you're safe, Kiku. You're safe."  
"You..." Kiku's voice cracked. "You came for me?"  
"Of course I did, silly! I'd never leave you?"  
Alfred could feel Kiku's shoulders begin to shake as he too, began to cry.   
"I thought-" Kiku cried, "I thought that after the awful things I've done, that you'd never want to see me again-"  
"Don't be silly!" Alfred sobbed, rocking him back and forth.   
The two did nothing but cry for a while in each others embrace, the warmth of each other and the sheer fact that they were finally together being enough emotional force that they simply could do nothing but weep. They'd dreamed of being reunited for years, but not.. like this.   
Right now however, they didn't care.

Finally, Alfred pulled back a little to hold Kiku's face in his hands. He wiped away his tears with both thumbs, despite still crying, himself.  
"Listen," Said Alfred, "I'll help you, alright? Me and you are going to get better together, alright, Kiku?"  
Kiku nodded, staring deep into Alfred's eyes.  
Alfred had a thought.   
"Kiku! I'll go get the nurse! She'll be so happy!" He exclaimed, turning away to go and run from her.   
He didn't get very far. His hand was grabbed.   
Alfred turned back around to see Kiku holding his hand, his face a mixture of scared and upset.  
"Please don't leave me!" Kiku desperately cried. "Please, I only just saw you, you can't leave me! Please, Alfred!"   
Alfred almost started crying a second time.   
"It's alright." He whispered, his voice soft and gentle. "I won't leave you. We... We'll go see her together! Come on!"  
Alfred walked back over and securely put his arm behind Kiku's back for support.   
"Let's go." He smiled.

The two of them limped foolishly down the corridor, half laughing at their haphazard attempt to walk together. Alfred beamed. So did Kiku.   
Alfred had dreamed of seeing that stunning smile again for so, so long.

"Nurse! Nurse, look!" Alfred yelled upon getting to the front room. All of the nurses turned around, and their eyes widened in shock.   
"It's.." Said the nurse who spoke English, "Mr Jones, it's a miracle!"   
The nurses applauded, their smiles wide. They truly hadn't thought it was going to happen.   
"It's a miracle!" They all cheered, "It's a miracle from God!"   
All the while, Kiku stared up at Alfred, his smile big, admiring what he'd wanted to see again for such a long time.

"Come on," Alfred called, guiding Kiku along. "I have somewhere to take you!"  
Kiku laughed at him.  
"I just woke up!" He playfully protested. "Where are we going?"  
"You'll see!" Alfred replied, walking him along.

They walked for a while before they came to it, but then Kiku's eyes began to fill with fresh tears when he saw what Alfred was leading him towards.   
He covered his face with his hands, almost like he didn't believe it.  
"Oh, Alfred.." He whispered softly.

In front of them, was a cherry blossom tree.   
Alfred led Kiku towards it, gently and slowly, rubbing his back as they went.   
The flowers were beautiful. The bloom was in full swing now, the slight warm breeze making them sway and flutter.   
Kiku's tears fell when they were finally standing under the tree.   
"You remembered..!" He cried, looking up at Alfred. "You didn't forget..!"  
"I'd never forget my promise to you!" Replied Alfred, wiping Kiku's tears away again. "Not ever! I made a promise to you, and I'm going to fulfill it. If.. that's okay, right now?"  
"Please." Said Kiku, leaning back on the trunk of the tree.

Underneath the cherry blossom tree once more, the two stood together. Star crossed lovers, it seemed, but neither had let anything or anyone get in their way. Their love for each other was an unbreakable bond - they'd been through the hardship to prove that now.   
Under the cherry blossom tree, in the rosy glow created by the golden rays cast through the perfect pink flowers, Alfred leaned down, and closed his eyes.   
He gently, softly, without making a mistake, leaned down, and kissed his lover there, Kiku kissing him back just as much.   
His hands rest on Kiku's hips, and Kiku's arms around Alfred's neck.   
This was a moment they would never let go of.   
The warmth of each others kiss, the beating of their hearts together.   
It was a moment that seemed to stop time, that seemed to last eternity, under the shade of the tree in each others company.

"I love you more than anything else in this world." Said Kiku.  
Alfred smiled.  
"And I love you even more than that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Thank you so much if you read to the end... This one meant a lot to me. ♥


End file.
